62nd Annual Hunger Games
by monsterjohnster
Summary: Atala Copperwood is a 16 year old from District Five.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

District 5, one of the largest districts. We have a vast amount of power plants that cover the horizon and fill the air with smoke. We've all gotten used to it by now, the pollution, the smell. It actually never fazed me, now that I think of it. I've always had a liking for the smell, but I don't tell too many people that because my mom said it's a little weird. But I know a few other kids at school who like it too, so it cant be that weird, can it? I guess it just reminds me of home.

I'm an only child. I live in a working family; both my mom and my dad go to work every morning and return every night. My mom is an equipment manager at one power plant while my dad is a geologist at a lab nearby. People tell me I'm rich, which is an outright lie. I wouldn't say that I'm rich, but I wouldn't say I'm poor, either. We're middle class: we have an average house, average clothes, and average jobs, average anything you could think of. The only thing is that everyone I go to school with has less money; their parents don't have the best jobs. I am thankful though, even if the poor aren't really that poor. The "poor" in District 5 still have houses and are able to remain clothed, which isn't as bad as the "poor" in Districts 11 or 12.

I wake up early on a Saturday morning. My mom is talking to Annie downstairs and my dad is making coffee. Annie is my best friend. We're neighbors, the same age, the same IQ, it's crazy. People who don't know us well usually regard us as twins, which is funny because we look nothing alike; we just act the same. She has dark, brunette hair while I have dirty blonde hair. We have the same body type, though: we're both about 5'7", give or take an inch, and we're both thin. Not stick thin like starving people, but average thin, a very fit tone. There, another "average" thing to add to my list.

I sit up in my bed and watch my dad walk into my room and give me a mug of coffee. He wishes me luck and kisses me on the forehead and then leaves, lab coat on, briefcase in hand. My father and I were never that close. No past anger or anything, we just never got to bond as I grew up like a normal father and daughter. He was always at the lab for crazy hours everyday. He always came home at least 3 hours later than my mother, and some nights, he would come home after we were all asleep, and then he would wake up in the morning for work while we were still sleeping. I never understood the job of a geologist, maybe to keep up with the ever-changing Capitol?

After my dad leaves, Annie comes skipping in, her hair in two braids that dance around on her shoulders.

"Who's ready for some Hunger Games!?" she sings sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah, may the odds be ever in your favor, uhuh." I moan back to her. I roll on my side to hide the sunlight my face. I hate waking up.

Annie helps me choose a small outfit to go to the Justice Building in. A light blue dress with no sleeves, a thin brown belt with a silver buckle to go with it. I wear dark leather shoes and put my hair in identical braids so we match. We joke about how we are a package, if one of us is reaped, the other would have to go up with them. But the thing is, none of us can really be reaped. The odds are in our favor, technically, because there are more people who needed tesserae and have their name in so many times because they need the extra food. Annie and I are both better off than most people.

We walk down the steps and go into the kitchen. My mother stands there looking at us, with tears in her eyes. She is always _very_ over-dramatic on reaping days.

"Mom, why are you crying, I'm gonna be fine!" But, my mom can't take it. She begins weeping and hugging me. Then she pulls Annie in for the hug. I'm sixteen; I have been in the reaping for four years now. So what is that? My name in a glass bowl only four times? Out of hundreds of names in there, there is no way I will be chosen. It is just impossible.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

While my mom pours tears all over Annie and me, the horn rings, signaling all eligible tributes to go to the Justice Building. I force my mom off of me and tell her to stay calm. She won't listen.

"I just don't want to see you go like this. Not here, not now." she says as she wipes the remaining tears from her eyes.

"I'll be fine, mom. We're safe, Annie and I." Annie and I look at each other and smile, knowing there is no way either one of us could be reaped.

"Well just in case, here." my mom says before hugging me and squeezing me so tight that I almost lose consciousness. Then, the horn rings again. It's time for us to go.

"Thanks for having me, Mrs. Copperwood." Annie says as we walk out the door.

"Love you, mom." I say, looking back at my mother. She's still working away at her wet eyes with a tissue.

"Love you too, sweetie."

Annie and I arrive at the Justice Building very shortly. It's a two-minute walk from my house, which is much closer than most other people I knew. All we have to do was go straight down the main street and we are there. I always think of how funny it was that we have streets and no cars. I guess cars are only meant for the luxury and beauty of the Capitol.

There are about three hundred boys and girls in each waiting area. Annie and I step up to get our fingers pricked by a Peacekeeper, and then we walk into our waiting area. It isn't long before Miranda Finkle, our district's escort, arrives on the stage to announce the tributes for this year's Hunger Games.

"Welcome, everyone." she says in her disgustingly thick Capitol accent. "Today I will be selecting the male and female tributes for the 62nd Annual Hunger Games. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Miranda prances over to the female reaping bowl and sticks her hand in. She has dark skin and black, flowing, straight hair that flies in the wind. She is perfect, a little green dress that cuts by her knees, tall green heels that look near impossible to walk in, and a perfect pink flower in her hair. Her makeup is overdone, but that is nothing unusual since she comes from the Capitol.

After fishing around through the bowl for what seems like an eternity, she struts back to the microphone, where she flattens out the slip of paper and read the name aloud.

"Atala Copperwood."

Everyone looks around. I feel somewhat bad for the poor girl who was chosen, it must be horrifying to know that your life will be over in a matter of days.

"Atala Copperwood." Miranda says again, a bit more firmly this time, adding a bit of a pause between the first and last name.

Still, no one goes up to the stage. "_Where is she?" _ I think to myself. Then, Annie nudges me in the side with her elbow.

"What's your problem?" I snap at her. But when I look into her eyes, she's crying. _"What has gotten into her these days?" _I think to myself again.

"Atala Copperwood, please come up to the stage, wherever you are!" Miranda says with a little nervous laugh. That is when I finally realize. Atala Copperwood. That's my name. Wait, I was reaped? I look around again and see everyone staring at me. It must be a dream. _"Wake up."_ I say to myself. But nothing happens; I don't wake up.

I begin walking up to the stage, hoping this nightmare will end soon. Reality hits me. It isn't a dream. I have been chosen, fair and square. And after all this time, I've been kidding about it and joking like it was funny with Annie. Boy, do I feel stupid now.

When I step on the stage and see everyone watching me, I can't help but want to cry. Soon I'll be sent away, far away, where I can't talk to Annie, or sit and eat popcorn with my mom. No, I'll be dead in a matter of weeks. My fate is inevitable.

I hold my tears in while Miranda speaks into the microphone again.

"Now for the boys." She does her same routine of fishing for a name for a few minutes and then finally strutting back to the microphone with a slip of paper.

"Billee Abernuckle."

I have no idea who he is. I recognize his face from school; perhaps he's in a higher grade than me.

"Your tributes," Miranda exclaims, raising our arms violently. "Atala Copperwood and Billee Abernuckle." She then proceeds to lower our arms and rush us into the Justice Building.

We are allowed one minute for each of our closest friends or family members. Usually two or three people can visit you before you were sent off to the Capitol. I suspect my mother, Annie, and my father to visit me. First to enter my separate room is my mother.

Before even saying a word she grabs me and hugs me tight. She sobs and sobs and sobs until she can finally manage to spit out a few words.

"I can't lose my baby," she cries. "I love you too much!" Because she says this, I cry even more. I let it all out now. All that I held in on the stage in front of the Justice Building is now on my mother's shoulder. Nothing can describe what I feel right now. Absolutely nothing.

All we do is cry in each other's arms. We were so close to one another, it's too difficult to let her go so quickly. But the Peacekeepers had no regard for love and relationships. One quickly hurries in after a minute, on the dot, and pulls my mother out of the room. I sit for a moment and think of the pain my mother must be going through. I think to myself how I'll never have a child of my own. I won't have a wedding either. Not even graduate high school. Tears come to my eyes, which are now sticking together with the partially dried tears from before. Then, Annie runs in.

"What is wrong with you, I thought we were a package!" I say to her, trying to lighten up the mood with a little joke even though I still wipe the tears from my eyes. This only makes her cry harder.

"I'm so, so, so, so sorry!" she whines to me, her head buried in my shoulder. We are inseparable, best friends forever. It's so awful to end our friendship so suddenly like this. But, once again, a Peacekeeper comes in to pull us apart forever.

I wait expectantly for my father. Minutes pass, but still, nobody shows up.

"It must be taking a while since he was at work." I think aloud.

Finally, when the door opens, I stand up.

"Dad, I—" I start. My smile fades when I see it's Miranda.

"Come on, darling, we have to catch the train!" she says, disregarding what I said when she walked in.

My father never showed up, I should have seen that one coming. Still, I cannot wipe the empty feeling I have inside. My own father could care less about his daughter being reaped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The days that follow are hectic and rushed. We arrive in the Capitol after riding a train for a few hours. Along the way, Miranda and our mentors, Charlie and Rootina, explain what to expect from the other tributes. We silently watch the other tributes being reaped on the television before we pull into the train station at the Capitol.

When we get there, everything picks up a fast pace. Billee and I are rushed into the prep rooms of the building across from the Training Center to dress up for the Chariot rides. The prep team waxes my legs and arms and cleans my body head to toe, not missing a spot. It feels amazing to be clean. Not that I hadn't been clean in District 5 or anything, but being cleaned here made you feel extremely clean. There was a nice line of white on my fingernails, no dirt underneath them. My hair is washed and blow-dried into a shiny, wavy mess. My face feels minty, exfoliated from all of the sponges and cleansing soaps and oils the prep team used. It feels criminal to be this excited about how good I look, but damn I look great, fantastic, in fact. Even the small freckles that aren't normally visible across my cheekbones are visible because I am so clean. For once, I'm not so self-conscious about myself.

Then, my stylist walks in, holding a can of some Capitol energy drink. He has a pink V-neck on with a white Capitol seal embossed on it. He wears white shorts with pockets and silver zippers all over them and grey sandals that clap as he walks.

There is something off about him, something not right. I feel unsettled, like I need to have someone watching him as he puts my costume on me. He is pale and had little scars around his hands and wild tattoos of snakes and spears curling up his arm. His head is shaved all around except on the top, which is slicked up into a Mohawk and dyed pink. He looks to be about 25 years old, maybe a little older. His septum ring shines in the bright fluorescent lights as he tilts his head back and forth. Then, he puts his drink down on the table.

"I think this is going to work out just fine." he says to no one, sounding glum about the whole situation. He seems unwilling to get to know me.

"My name's—" I begin.

"Atala, yeah I know, I watched your reaping. Hey, what took you so long to go up onto the stage, huh?" he says jokingly, examining my body. I don't find his joke funny.

"I was just in shock…"

"Of course you were!" he hoots, smiling because the prep team laughs at his joke. He doesn't even look up.

"Well, I didn't get a chance to catch your name when you walked in." I say in a low voice. His assistant looks at me.

"Garry's his name. And I'm Siarrah." she says. Her voice has a crisp and clean tone to it. She's a tan young woman, probably a little younger than Garry. She has puffy blonde hair and orange eyebrows. A copper eye shadow and gold mascara accent her amber eyes well. She wears a metallic pink lipstick and has a cute little nose. Siarrah is short but has a tall look to her from her high heels, which are black and studded with silver pyramids. She has a tight, black leather dress with a funky, fabric poof from her waist down to her mid thigh. Siarrah looks good, but I don't like her. I don't like my prep team at all.

"Well, Garry, what are you dressing me in today?" I ask him sarcastically.

"Listen, I'm sorry for my rude entrance. I've just been under a lot of stress today. Can we still be friends?" I'm hesitant to accept his apology, but I do, and I shake his outstretched hand. I feel like I can't believe he has any stress under him. He lives in the Capitol, what's there to stress about?

Garry dresses me in one of his original designs and Siarrah does my makeup and hair. I am dressed in a tight silver dress. It has no straps and stops at my mid thigh, around the same length as Siarrah's dress. Then, Garry proceeds to wrap a bright copper wire around the dress about three times, starting at the bottom left corner of my dress and ending at the top right corner. To finish the dress off, he wraps a thinner gold coil around my dress, starting and ending at the same place of the wire but going around my dress a few more times in between.

Siarrah gives me a lipstick close to my normal tone, but just a little redder, making my lips look thriving and healthy. A light touch of bronze blush matches my wires, and a smoky eye shadow with liquid silver mascara makes me look vibrant. I love what she's done, but I still hate her for no apparent reason. I feel like her luxurious persona is too much for me to handle. But, she's nice so I can't complain. Siarrah falls in love with my hair. She expresses her longing for such golden, streaming hair like I have. I can only imagine how awful it would look with her tan skin. Since she's actually a stylist, I bet she probably understands how bad that would look, but she's just being nice to me. Or maybe not, after all, she is from the Capitol, and they're too well known for their odd makeup and extravagant outfits.

When we go downstairs to the main lobby where we start from, I see all of the other tributes. Fabrics and leathers and decorations cover all of them. Some look stupid but others look pretty good. Like District One, for example. They wear these extravagant outfits that look somewhat old-fashioned but had a modern twist to them. But then there were people like District 7, who wore tree bark on their clothes. It isn't attractive. Anyway, I know I cannot get to like any of the tributes too well or it will cause too much distress for me in the arena when they die. Unless I die before them…

With that note, Billee arrives next to me, grabbing my shoulder and scaring me.

"Look at you, you're beautiful." he says. Once again, I feel good about myself.

"Not so bad yourself." I tell him honestly. He has dark brown hair, so dark that it looks black but in the light you can tell its brown. His hair is short but he has bangs that swoop across his forehead. His eyes are a light green and his teeth are perfectly white. If I had the chance, I would have some interest in him, but clearly I can't since both of us will most likely die in less than a week.

Billee has grey kakis that are a slimmer fit, a more fashionable fit than the normal baggy pants I'd seen him wearing at the reaping. He has a white button up shirt that's tucked in and the sleeves are rolled up perfectly to his elbows. A matching grey tie is set perfectly at his collar and is tucked underneath a vest he wears over his button up shirt. The vest is the same shining silver that my dress is so we make a perfect match. By order of his stylist, he has silver eyeliner on along his eyelash that goes with my silver mascara. It's funny to see him with this makeup on because he's such a guy that I can tell he fought with his stylist against this but eventually gave in.

Once Caesar Flickerman begins his spiel on the Hunger Games and each of the Districts, all of the tributes are signaled to start getting onto their chariots. All of them are black with silver wheels and a silver design along the side. The horses are black too so that they don't draw too much attention to themselves. The main event is the tributes.

Then, the large wooden doors open up revealing the main street leading up to the Training Center. Thousands of Capitol citizens sit on either side of the street, roaring with applaud and praise for their favorite districts. I am lucky to be in District 5; the Capitol people get bored usually around the 6th and 7th Districts, hoping for the Chariot Rides to hurry up a bit. They are always in a hurry, and with their speedy technology and fast-paced lives, sitting for ten minutes is more than enough.

As each District's chariot came out, the applause subtly gets quieter and quieter. It is hard to notice, but if you think about the applause given for District 1 and the applause given for District 12, there is a big difference.

When Billee and I come out, it is exhilarating. The loudness numbs you and puts you in a moment of beauty. Everyone is cheering for _you_, and you feel special, even if it isn't for the best cause. I can see myself on the big screens all around. I look beautiful. Nobody else can compare. The silver of my dress sparkles and shines from all of the lights. Through all the despair and sadness these Games bring me, I can't help but smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

In the Training Center on the first day, I go around the room, deciding what station to work at. All of the Careers have already spent a few minutes on the food stations but have now moved onto the stations with weapons. Some of those in the last few Districts stick together at stations on how to camouflage and how to make traps for food. They seem to be staying away from the Careers, intimidated by their strength. Billee and I take our place at a small table where you learn about various berries and nuts. We learn about them for the whole day, really taking in what we've learned and remembering it well so that when it comes to eating in the arena we're prepared. Towards the end of the day, we have about an hour left to do something else. We both decide that for the next two days, our top priority would be to learn how to use a weapon. We also decide to keep practicing one type of weapon rather than have a small understanding of everything. I think it's more logical to be good at one thing than only okay at many things. Billee goes to learn about some medium-sized swords, and I decide to learn about throwing knives.

The whole station is meant for one person. There's a red mat for where you stand and a table next to it, decorated ornately with hundreds of throwing knives. Across the room are three different targets to throw at. Each of them is shaped like a human and has two different targets: the heart and the head. I stand ready with a knife firmly in my right hand. As I swing my hand back behind my head, about to throw the knife, I see the Careers watching me out of the corner of my eye. They snicker to each other, doubting my skill with this weapon. But I'm going to show them wrong. I've never used one of these before, but it seems easy. I keep my eyes glued on the head of the middle target. I whip my arm forward and release the knife, hoping for the best. Clearly I don't get the best, because when it lands on the floor a mile away from the target, the Careers begin laughing hysterically. I swallow hard and hold my breath, not wanting to show any emotion. I am angry at the fact that they are so talented at using all these weapons already and I have to make a fool of myself when I try to use one. This is what I'm sticking with, though. I will prove to them my worth at the end of these next few days.

During the next two days, I practice throwing knives. I begin to do well, nearly mastering my skill by the end of the second day. I can see Billee wielding the sword. He's a natural. He has such fast reflexes and such strength that it looks as if he's done this his whole life. It makes me a bit jealous, knowing he's better off than I am. I look over to the other stations and see how well everyone else is doing. I've improved, but I can't help feeling like I'm in last place. I can see the District 1 female tribute. She stands, poised on her toes with the bow in her left hand and the string pulled back with her right. She releases her arrow and if flies straight into the heart of the target. I imagine her killing me the same way. Shaking the idea from my head, I continue working on my knife-throwing skills.

By the end of the third day, I'm ready to prove the Careers wrong. I see them gathered around the District 1 girl at the archery station. They all laugh and kid around like this game is some kind of a joke, like they're at camp or something. It makes me sick. I stand there at my station, staring at them, waiting for them to look at me, and I'm startled when Billee grabs my shoulder.

"Don't creep up on me like that!" I snap at him.

"Come on, it's not like we're in the arena."

"Well, still." I say. "I don't like it."

"Why are you staring at them?" he asks me with a laugh. How long has he been watching me? And how long have I been staring?

"Because they laughed at me the other day when I tried to throw a knife."

"That's because you were awful at it." He begins laughing.

"It's not funny!" I say punching his shoulder. We had grown to know each other so well that we had a brother-sister type relationship. It was going to be hardest to let him go.

"I especially hate that District 1 girl." I hate her face. She has a small, thin nose that curves up at the tip. Freckles cover her nose and cheekbones, and she has these dark brown eyes that make her pupils barely visible. She is pretty, though, with long eyelashes and thin lips. That's one of the main reasons why I hate her so much. This pretty little girl is going to get so many sponsors with her bubbly personality. Underneath, though, she's definitely coldhearted, ready to do anything to win.

"Who? Portia?" Billee asks me, pointing at her.

"Well don't point towards them, they'll know we're talking about them." I say, slapping his arm down. So that's her name. Portia. "And yes." I say. But it's too late; they've already noticed the 'nonchalant' Billee. They all turn and stare at me. They want me to put on a show called 'Fail at Throwing Knives Again'.

"Time to show them what you're made of." Billee says, walking away from the station. He watches from a distance, and when I look at him before throwing a knife, he puts up his arms and makes a scared face, like I might hit him because I'm so bad.

"You're hysterical." I call to him, smiling. I make sure I'm loud so the Careers are definitely watching me. Okay, enough fun. I have to do my best. My smile fades and I concentrate deeply on the target. If I don't throw this knife well then I'll look like a complete idiot.

I hold my knife back behind my head like I had done the first day, but I realize throwing just one won't impress them. Portia can shoot ten arrows in ten seconds, all of them hitting critical points on the target. I need to do better.

I pick up two more knives and hold them in my left hand. There were three different sizes of knives provided, so I had one of each of them, the smallest in my right hand, ready to be thrown. I pull my arm back again and swing forward quickly, hoping for the best.

It hits the head of the target perfectly. I'm satisfied, but I know the Careers aren't, so I take the next biggest knife and throw it. Right in the heart. I look over to the Careers and they seem unimpressed, still. I need to throw in something to spice up my act. I know just what to do.

I take the largest knife from my left hand and hold it by the blade, taking a few more steps back. If this works, I will most definitely intimidate the Careers. Well, some of them. I pelt the knife at the target and it places perfectly, perfectly on the crotch of the target.

The boys from Districts 1 and 2 are pale and surely freaked out. Portia and the District 2 girl seem unimpressed, still. Maybe they are afraid but they're trying not to show it. Not likely.

My work here is done; I've proved my worth to the Careers, I guess. Perhaps now they see me as more of a competitor, not prey.

Billee walks up to me, his white teeth showing bright with his smile.

"I hope you don't pull that last move on me in the arena."

"Of course I will." I say, jokingly. He puts his arm around me as the bell rings, signaling the end of the day. Our last Training Center day. Tomorrow will be our Training Sessions with the Gamemakers, and the day after we will receive our scores. Then, the day after that, are our interviews, and then the next morning, we go to the arena. Three more days until my inevitable death.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I wake up with a knot in my hair. The conditioner they provide in my bathroom doesn't quite do the trick, so I spend a good twenty minutes brushing it out. My wavy hair falls to my elbows. I've forgotten how long it's become. When was the last time I got a haircut? It must have been a while ago. The last time I got a haircut was when I decided to go with short hair. My mom cut it for me and she cut it beautifully but I looked hysterical with short hair; it didn't suit my face. I cried and refused to go to school. My mom let me stay home for two or three days but then I had to go in and receive laughs and jeers from all the other students. They got over it though, and I've been growing my hair out ever since. All the way down to my elbows.

The breakfast is especially good today, but I can't eat a lot because I'm so nervous about our Training Sessions. They start at 2:00, so I'll go in at around 4:15. They give everyone fifteen minutes, unless they're satisfied with what the tribute has done in a shorter amount of time. That's what I'm most nervous about. If they're impressed, they might keep you longer to see more or send you away because they're already content with what you've done. If they think you're terrible, they might keep you longer to get a good laugh or send you away in disgust. You never really know they are thinking unless you can get a glimpse of their reactions. They try so hard to remain static about everything so you can't guess your score ahead of time. They want the scores to be a surprise to everyone. So, I eat a slice of toast and some strawberries, down a glass of water, and go back to my room. I try not to talk too much because my stomach is in knots and I don't feel like talking to Miranda, Charlie, Garry, Siarrah, Rootina, or even Billee about the Training Sessions. I just want some peace and quiet to mentally prepare myself.

During the day we cannot go to the Training Center. We have to sit and do whatever until all of the tributes are sent down to the waiting room outside of the Training Center, where they will announce us in one by one according to district and gender. Boys first, then girls. District One first, then Two.

While I'm in my room, I ask an Avox for cleaning supplies so I can clean my room. She seems hesitant but then leaves and shortly returns with a few rags, window cleaner, and a vacuum. My mother used to clean our house all the time. It was her way to think about plans for the week and do something while thinking. I feel as if doing the same will help me too. I put on a warm pair of socks and vacuum the white rug in my room. Then I get to work on the window and other surfaces with the window cleaner. I can't help but think about how my Training Session will go. I want to impress the Gamemakers but throwing a few knives at a target won't give me a great score. The only ones who can easily get double digits are the Careers and the other people who really put on a show for the Gamemakers. The ones who amaze them and show them something they've never seen before can get a score of eleven and sometimes even twelve. I'll have to show them something spectacular to get the score I want.

At 1:45 on the dot we head down to the Training Center. They've set up a few benches in a room next to the Center and let us sit and talk for a while. Nobody really talks, though. There's such intensity in the air that it's hard to calmly talk to other people, so all of the other tributes keep their mouths shut and wait for their turn. Precisely at 2:00, they call the male tribute from One into the Training Center. Billee tells me the kid's name is Munstead. Munstead is a tall, buff guy with a striking jawline and perfectly white teeth. I don't know why, but his short hair has these rich, black roots with blinding white tips. I guess it's a fashion statement in the wealthy districts, and it actually does suit him. He winks at Portia before leaving. She giggles and laughs flirtatiously, so I can't help but role my eyes. The cheesiness of everything they do bothers me. They know the odds are in their favor, so they know they can laugh and fool around all they want without taking a bit of this seriously. Munstead disappears through the doorway of the waiting room and everyone waits in silence. At 3:49, it's Billee's turn to go in. Before he leaves, I wish him good luck, and he does the same, knowing he won't see me until I'm done with my Training Session. After only five minutes, they call me in. Why was Billee's so short? Did they not like him or something? I hope not.

When I walk into the Training Center, I see one of the targets is split in half at the stomach. I also see a medium sized sword next to the half-target. Clearly it's the work of Billee, since he's the only one who really practiced with the medium swords. The Gamemakers seem impressed, especially since the targets are thick and hard to cut through. It's easy to see Billee cut right through the target without a problem. Of course he had to set the bar high for me.

"Atala Copperwood. District Five." I say, introducing myself. The Gamemakers already begin scribbling in their notepads, which makes me nervous.

I walk right up to the throwing-knife station and all eyes are on me. There are three targets lined up and three knives sitting on the rack. I pick up the smallest one and twirl it around in the palm of my right hand. Judging the distance between myself and the leftmost target, I decide to hold the blade in my palm and I quickly whirl it at the target's heart. It's near perfect, probably off slightly from my nerves and anxiety. I look up at the Gamemakers and they seem unimpressed. They've seen a lot of good today, and my mediocre throw is not going to cut it. I hold the medium knife in my hand and face the rightmost target. This time my palms are sweating and I can feel the knife sliding around in my grip, its jagged teeth slightly scraping my skin. I swallow hard and throw the knife again, aiming toward the groin. I hit it on mark, and looking up again at the Gamemakers I can tell I surprised some of them, but not all of them. I pick up the last and largest knife. It's a little heavy, so I take a step back and hold the handle firmly. I look around at the middle target to try and decide which part of the target would be the best to hit, but then I decide that's not what they want. They want to see my ability to defend myself in any situation. So, I turn around and face the Gamemakers. I wing the knife over my shoulder before I can second-guess my decision to throw it backwards, and I pray to hear the knife hit the target. My heart's pounding too hard in my ears, so I miss the sound. I turn around slowly and find that my knife did in fact hit the target. It planted itself on the thigh of the target, which still shocked the Gamemakers. They clap a little for me, and I leave the Training Center satisfied.

The next day falls the same way: we get up and wait until 8:00 when they show the scores to everyone throughout Panem. I follow the same routine as the day before. I wake up, eat breakfast, and sit in my room, cleaning and thinking the whole day. Billee comes in at one point to tell me lunch was ready, so we get some sandwiches and eat in my clean room, talking about what we did in the Training Center.

"I saw you sliced a target in half." I say to him.

"Yeah, you saw that? Did they like it?"

"Of course they did, nobody can just slice a target in half!" He looks at me like he didn't know that already.

"Well what did you do?"

"I threw a few knives. Got one in the heart, the crotch, and then I threw one behind my shoulder and got it on the target's leg."

"See, you did just as well as I did!" he says, patting me on the back. But for some reason I can't help but think he's wrong. I did what so many others could accomplish with a few days of practice. He was able to slice a target in half, which sounds easy but it's definitely not. Those targets are made out of some flexible but dense material. There's no easy way to cut them in half. And the pat on the back bothers me, so I decide to let out what I'm thinking.

"You realize a few knives aren't going to work on them, right?" I ask. I want to see his opinion. I want to see him lie and say I was good and not to worry.

"They might, you don't know that." He tells me. I can already feel the lies coming. "And if they don't like it, you're still a threat to the other tributes." Huh, so he didn't lie this time. I'd noticed that a lot of the time he'd lie to me just to make me feel better. But I didn't like those pity words; they meant nothing to me. I liked the truth and nothing but the truth.

"I guess you're right." I reply, smiling and ripping another piece of bread off my sandwich.

"I'm always right." he says in this overdramatic voice. I laugh at his sarcasm.

We wait another few hours and then eat dinner with each other until 7:30, when Miranda and Charlie and Rootina and Garry all show up to watch the scores. We sit in the sitting room for half an hour, tensely waiting, wanting to get the scoring over with. We stare blankly at the television until the scoring begins. First they show a photo of the tribute, and then their score flashes below it. All of the Careers make it in the nine-to-eleven range. My body begins to tense up when the show a picture of Billee. He pulls a nine. It's difficult, even in our district, to get a relatively high score, so we all applaud him until my face shows up on the screen. Then, a score of ten flashes below my face.

Miranda stands up immediately, squeaks, and hugs me tightly, ranting about how proud she is of the both of us, even though she is only talking to me. Garry shakes my hand afterwards and offers a hint of a smile, which I appreciate even though I know he doesn't really like me. Siarrah even says "congratulations" to me. I'm glad that my score was high, especially since I tried so hard and didn't expect the score I got. I look at Billee and mouth "Good job!" at him, but he doesn't respond. He's jealous, just like all other guys get. Billee is the competitive type, but I know he'll get over it by tomorrow. With the thought of tomorrow, I realize that tomorrow is our last day before the Games. My stomach flips and my heart skips a beat when I come to the realization that my life will more than likely end in the upcoming days. My eyes tear a little but I recuperate when Charlie calls us to the table for dessert. I scoff down a thin slice of chocolate cake and go back to my room. I lie down on my bed and smell the air. My room is still clean, but I know I will be cleaning it again tomorrow. I have a feeling of unease before I go to sleep, and I dream about a knife that follows me and finally stabs me in the groin.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

When I think about the interviews, I think about my inability to speak in front of groups of people. At school, whenever we had to give presentations, I was the one who stuttered the most and would get a dry throat halfway through a sentence and pause awkwardly to swallow. Talking to my friends was no big deal, but when it came to crowds of those I didn't know, all of it became difficult. How was I going to pull off a live interview in front of everyone in Panem? It seemed impossible.

I wake up and skip breakfast this morning. Before I can start to intensely clean again, Miranda walks into my room.

"Hello, Atala." she says in that thick accent she has. I stare at her blankly, not knowing what to say. It seems as if Billee has gotten to know our mentors and stylists better than I have. They all have no problem talking to him, and they all get along with him. Maybe it's because I'm quiet at mealtimes.

"I'm here to help you practice for the interview. You know, the interview tonight is the best way to get sponsors, so you must do your absolute best!" She's overly excited about the whole thing.

"Well, what are you going to teach me? We only have a few hours…"

"Hm… We can start with your posture," she says with a slight groan. She plops down on the bed next to me, crinkling her orange dress, and puts her hands on my shoulders, forming them so I'm sitting up straight.

"There." Miranda states, firm with triumph.

"Okay, now what?"

"Well, first, you must remember to keep this posture the whole time. It will give you a bit of class."

As if I don't have any already.

"Oh, and for the legs," she begins and moves my legs around to the correct position. "Keep your body and legs like this. Chin up, too. You can do whatever with your hands but make it look proper."

The day goes by with her explaining things such as how to wear the dress, how to walk well in high heels, how to drink water when you have lipstick on, how to emphasize certain words and how to sound innocent yet strong for sponsors. It's so monotonous, but it's essential. Without it, I would be all over the place during my interview.

Finally, at 6:00, we head to the front of the Training Center, where the Caesar Flickerman Show will be filmed tonight. The interviews start at 9:00, but we're eating dinner there and getting dressed up and getting makeup, so the producers make sure we're early. When I get there, my prep team is waiting for me with a fresh Caesar salad (I get the pun) and a dress for me to wear. Once I scoff down my dinner, I put on my dress and the prep team begins working on my hair and makeup. The dress Garry supplies is something he calls a "sweater dress". It's extremely soft and has this open knit construction, so there are detailed holes all through the crème-colored dress. There is a ribbed trim at the waist and a full circle skirt connected to it. The sleeves are full length, light, and puff ever so slightly. On the back is a thin cutout that ends at my lower back but can be closed a little bit with the help of a button in the middle. The dress falls to my mid-thigh, so it's the perfect length for sitting comfortably and not having to worry too much about what might be exposed if I don't sit right.

The prep team decides that Siarrah will work on my hair. I'm not pleased with this decision. However, she manages to make my long hair look good by tying a fishtail braid that moves from the right down the left side of my head. It falls on my left shoulder down to my armpit. It seems so much shorter tied up than when it's straight.

For my makeup, the team gives me a dark eye shadow, mascara, eyeliner, and nothing else but a feint pink lipstick. Usually, the prep teams overdo the makeup on the guys and the girls to make them look good on camera, but mine decided to give Billee and me more natural looks, which I don't mind since I never put on that much makeup anyway. The prep team takes a while to finish off my look, but they embellish me with a long thin necklace with a tall triangle on the end of it and black high heels that cover most of my feet to make the shoes look like boots. By the end of their time styling me, I'm forced to wait in a room with Garry for an hour or so before the interviews start. We sit in silence, for we both don't like each other for whatever reason. I mean, he started it with the whole "rude to Atala" thing, but I could care less. I'm not here to be nice to him, so what does it matter?

The hour wait that seems like eternity finally ends when the producers of the show get me backstage and line up the tributes in order of district. This time, instead of male and then female, they do female then male. Caesar interviews each tribute for three minutes and then rushes them off to get to the next tribute. It sickens me to know that these interviews are solely for the purpose of making impressions and for the Capitol citizens to decide whom to bid on. This makes it hard for me to find any respect for Caesar and the rest of the Capitol. I don't like knowing that Caesar asks certain questions to get a sort of impression of us out to the country.

While I wait for my turn, I make an effort to try and remember the tributes in One, Two, Three, and Four. From One there's Portia and Munstead, from Two there's Teena and Jaymes, from Three there's Pony and Cog, and from Four there's Thyme and Tonee. Portia plays that nice, bubbly girl thing that she's been doing around the other Careers. All I can do is roll my eyes when she bursts out in fake laughter or bite my tongue when she says something stupid. Everyone seems to like her, cheering for her the most when she walks off the stage. Munstead is just buff and serious about the whole thing. He has no motive but has a desire to kill, making him a big competitor. Teena stands out to me because she, like Munstead, is big and has muscle. She's not as pretty as Portia, but her black hair and pale skin give her an look that intimidates me and fills the atmosphere with negative energy. The last person that has an effect on me is Thyme. She's the girl from Four and the shortest tribute in this year's Games. She had no real talent in the Training Center in the physical things, but she was able to surpass everyone in the mental things, like memorizing good and bad plants or how to properly use plants to cure bug bites. She has a brain that will take her far, and what do I have? Long hair? Knife-throwing skills that might not even do me good in the arena?

Before they call my name, I turn around and flash a smile at Billee. He looks striking, a crème-colored suit and pants that match my dress and a blue button-down shirt. His dark hair has also been trimmed slightly to give him a suave yet young look. In response, he flashes a smile back at me and a cheesy 'thumbs up'. Just as I had suspected earlier: he's already on good terms with me. I'm glad he can get over things quickly.

"And now we have, from District Five: Atala Copperwood!"

The sound of Caesar's voice makes me jump but I immediately walk out onto the stage. The bright stage lights blind my eyes and the cheering of the crowd deafens me. As my eyes make the adjustment from the dark backstage to the bright stage, I try to make out where Caesar is. I find out he is about two feet away from me when he grabs my right arm and sits me down in a gray chair with steel arms and legs. Once I can see the whole stage, I find out how beautiful it is. The floor is made of this dark, reflective wood, and there are these huge screens behind us that display weird designs and backgrounds for the interview. The Capitol citizens line the streets and are taking numerous pictures. Everyone wants a picture of each tribute; when a tribute wins, it's cool to have a picture of them before they've outlived everyone. I gaze into the flashing lights of the cameras before Caesar catches my attention.

"So, Atala. How has the Capitol been treating you? Are you enjoying yourself here?" He smiles with his large white teeth. Well, of course I'm not enjoying the vacation before my death, but I lie so people like me.

"Oh, the Capitol is just beautiful," I begin, with a smile greater than his. "I think what I like the most is…" I draw a blank. What do I like? Think, Atala, think, before the pause is too long! "… the fashion here." No, actually, I hate it.

"Really, and what part of the fashion do you like the most?" I can't think of an honest answer so I reply as generally as I can.

"Just every part of it! It's hard to pick with so many choices!"

"I personally like the beautiful sweater dresses, right?" announces Caesar, addressing the audience. They all cheer and clap and whistle. It takes me a second to realize he's talking about the dress I have on tonight, which makes me smile. Caesar tries to make everyone feel comfortable and tries to give everyone a good reputation. I guess I can put that in my bank of reasons to respect him.

For a short while, we banter about my life at home and the reaping (which makes me nostalgic about District 5) and then Caesar brings up the training scores.

"Now, Atala, do you think that your higher training score gives you an advantage over Billee?" I'm angered at his audacity to ask this question. I don't mind answering, but I know Billee will be jealous again. The worst part is I want him as an ally, not an enemy. He's strong and intimidating, he can take me to the end of the Games. But then again, I don't want to be in the end with him. I couldn't kill him; it would be physically and emotionally daunting. I'd never have the strength or courage to kill Billee. Though my mind is racing with thoughts, I force out an answer that might not make him mad.

"I don't really think so. I may have shown the Gamemakers some tricks, but ultimately, Billee is much stronger than I am." I know Miranda will be upset with what I've just said. While she trained me for the interviews, she told me to make sure everything I say is positive about myself, nothing negative. Charlie and Rootina won't care, though. They're my mentors but they could easily care less about me. They're too absorbed with Billee.

After a few more quick-answered questions, Caesar ushers me off the stage and introduces Billee. From a screen in the small backstage room, I watch the course of Billee's interview with Charlie, Rootina, Garry, Siarrah, and Miranda. I know him too well now; I can see the anger in his eyes and the frustration in his jaw. He's mad at me, but what could I have done? I wasn't the one who asked the question, so I didn't deserve the blame.

Once Billee finishes his interview, he walks backstage and talks with Charlie on the side of the room. He makes sure to keep his voice low and he grits his teeth as he whispers in Charlie's ear. Charlie nods in agreement and Rootina walks to them to listen in to the gossip. My irritation builds up quickly at the sight of them talking about me, and before I can start shouting at them, Miranda grabs my shoulder. She turns me around slowly and looks meaningfully into my eyes and says:

"It's not worth it."

The funny thing is, I never knew she was completely on my side. Maybe this is something that happens often. Maybe Charlie and Rootina always pick sides. I quickly eliminate them from my mind; they're not worth my respect or thought.

We're allowed to leave the backstage area immediately after both the tributes are done with their interviews, so we leave before the District 6 people can walk in. We walk into the Training Center building and everything becomes quiet. Back at the interviews, there was a constant cheering of the crowd or sound of Caesar's laugh, but now that we we're in the building, everything is silent. We are all tired and nobody feels like talking to each other. In the elevator, you can count all the breaths each person takes. Inside our apartment on the fifth floor, Rootina and Charlie disappear to their rooms suddenly and Miranda wishes me goodnight and good luck since she won't see me in the morning. It's sad to know that she liked me this late in the game. I could have used her support and talked to her, but instead I kept to myself the whole time.

I look around for Billee, but he, like the mentors, has left quickly. It's not like I would find comfort in talking to him anyway. I'm innocent to a crime that the people around me think I've committed. I never betrayed Billee; I just gave my all and fought for a better score. If he can't handle that, he's not ready for the Games.

Once I find my room, I slip out of my dress and leave it unfolded on a chair near my bed. I change into my pajamas and lay in bed, but I don't fall asleep. There's too much to think about for tomorrow. I've clearly lost any chance of fighting with Billee, so the Games are going to be all the more difficult. My anxiety keeps me up much later than I anticipated.

At some point in the night, I realize how many people dislike me. I'm no more special than the Careers, but they have the advantage with sponsors because they're stronger and win more often. My own stylist tries his hardest to avoid me. My mentors, too, have an aversion for me. I only have myself, and no one else. I am alone in these Games.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

An eager Miranda wakes me up too early.

"Get up, get up!" She shrieks in that thick accent of hers.

But I don't want to.

After several more 'get up's, I sit up in my bed and Miranda slowly leaves the room, keeping a careful eye on me to make sure I am actually getting up. Once the door shuts I stand up and make my bed. On the chair that kept my dress from the interview is now a strictly folded set of clothes for the arena. There's a light gray shirt, simple fitted black tawny trousers with tons of pockets, a sturdy leather belt, black leather boots, and skin-tight socks. I simply stare at the clothes and swallow hard. I will die in those clothes; they're the last things I'll wear.

I wash my knotted hair and scrub my body down with soap. The heat and steam from the shower make it even more difficult to stay awake, so I get out immediately after all of the soap is down the drain. As I dry my body and hair, I wonder what time it is but when I look for the clock on my bedside table, it isn't there. Do they not want me to know what time it is? Is it really that important? I contemplate the reason behind taking my clock away while I blow dry and brush my hair but I come up with no answers. Finally, I strip of my robe and put on my tribute outfit. It fits perfectly, but the tight socks bother me. I take them off again and try to stretch them out until Miranda knocks on my door and tells me politely yet impatiently to hurry up. After pulling my socks on again I find that they haven't stretched at all. Quickly, I try and recreate the fishtail braid Siarrah made for me last night but I come up with another knot that looks nothing like a fishtail braid. I give up and leave my room.

Set out on the table is food that you can tell was made specifically so it would stay down while in the arena. Things like toast, dry scrambled eggs, fruit, and muffins decorate the middle of the table. Miranda, Charlie, Rootina, and Billee are already eating quickly, trying to be ready for when they call us to go to the hovercrafts to get to the arena. Miranda frowns at my hair and Rootina nearly chokes on her eggs laughing at the braid. I strut over to the table as if nothing's wrong and eat plain toast, washing it down with ice-cold water.

While everyone else continues to gobble down food, we hear an announcement for all tributes to go to the roof and board the hovercraft. Billee and I say goodbye to our mentors and stand side by side in the elevator. I don't say a word to him and he doesn't say a word to me. When the elevator reaches the roof, we keep a solid stride to the hovercraft and sit in our assigned seats that have a lit-up number five above them. The rest of the tributes sit in order around us, and an attendant goes up to each tribute and injects a tracker in their arm so the Gamemakers know where we are at all times in the arena. When the attendant injects me with the tracker, it gives an excruciating pain. I sit there, gritting my teeth while everyone has managed to keep a calm composure. The tracker resting in my forearm beeps twice and then goes dark, blending in with the rest of my flesh. Then, the windows go black and the hovercraft begins flight. In no time, we reach the arena and are led underground, where we are each brought to a separate room with a tube inside that will carry us up into the arena. I wait patiently in the little room until Garry walks in. Until then, I hadn't realized Garry and Siarrah weren't at breakfast this morning.

Today Garry wears a white sleeveless shirt with a black Capitol symbol on it. He has grey shorts and yellow flip-flops that clap with every step he takes towards me.

The room is small. There's a table with one chair and one light in the middle of the ceiling. On the right of the room is a circular podium, cold and metallic.

Garry and I stand in front of each other and he says nothing to me but holds a plum red nylon jacket in his hands.

"Put this on." He says quietly as he drops the jacket in my hands. He swallows hard. I put the jacket on over my light gray shirt and notice a big, silver number five sewn onto the right and left sleeves. If you don't know whom you kill, at least you'll know their district.

For another minute, Garry and I stare at each other until suddenly he grabs my shoulders and pulls me into his arms for a hug. I stay there in his embrace, shocked that he's actually hugging me. I remember thinking how coldhearted Garry seemed to be but he is surprisingly warm and delicate right now. He breathes out shakily and sighs as he pulls away from me. Still holding my shoulders, he stares right into my eyes. His gray eyes are red and wet with tears. Why is he crying?

He sniffles before speaking. "Atala," he says to me "uh, try and make allies. Find food, then—no, wait, find _water_ first, then food, and then shelter, in that order. Okay?"

I stare at his red nose and eyes and nod my head yes.

He pulls me in for another hug and this time I respond to it, hugging him back strongly. But why is he so upset? He showed no affection towards me before this moment, so why now. But when he pulls away from the hug again, he answers my question.

"I mistreated you, Atala. This whole time I'd been ignoring you and you didn't deserve it."

I just stare at him. He's right but I don't know what to say.

"Is there any way you can forgive me?"

I can but what's the point? I decide for his sake it's best to tell him what he wants to hear.

"Of course I can forgive you." Once more I get a big hug, one tighter than all the rest. He holds me for so long and then its time for me to stand on the podium. My boots clunk against the smooth metal as I step up on the podium. Garry holds my hand while I stand up so I keep my balance. I have to be at least an extra foot taller with the podium underneath me. Garry holds my right hand with his left. Its warm but the air around me is cold and frigid. We are both silent. The only noise is a small humming that I can hear coming from above my head. I look up nervously to find a dark hole that leads upwards and seems to have no end. While my head is still up, Garry releases my hand quickly and by the time I look back at him, a glass cylinder has trapped me within the podium. Garry places his hand on the glass and I place mine right over his. I can feel the warmth of his hand through the thin glass. He sniffles and wipes his nose with his left hand, keeping his eyes on mine the whole time. Then, the floor below me begins to rise slowly. I take my hand off the glass and he does the same. His clammy hand left a circle of fog on glass barrier. At last, the floor raises me above the glass wall and I am submerged in a darkness and silence. Then, the ceiling above me opens up and I rise through to smell what I think is wet leaves and cold air.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Day 1 – 24 Tributes**

The bright sun blinds my vision, so I blink and rub my eyes to try and see better. When I finally regain my vision, I can see everything around me. There is a forest on either side of me and a long patch of grass running right through the middle, splitting the arena into three strips: forest, grass, forest, all running parallel to each other, straight down a few hundred yards until a huge lake stops the land from continuing. I turn around and see the same thing behind me: the strips of forest, land, and forest, and the huge lake. The Cornucopia opens just to the right of me. Its mouth points somewhere between the right forest and the area of grass. I can see about a hundred items. Tons of spears, swords of all shapes and sizes, a of couple bows and arrows, some food rations, a clip of throwing knives, a few book bags, a tarp—wait, throwing knives! They're right there, at the left of the open mouth of the Cornucopia. It is so close, only a few seconds away if I run. I vacillate between going for the knives and leaving them. While I think, I look around at my competitors. All of them wear the same clothes, but our jackets are different colors. The Careers stick out to me, I see all of them in an instant. The rest of them are an amalgam of teenagers, afraid of dying. I see a dark mop of hair and I realize I've found Billee. He's standing about a quarter of the circle of tributes to the right of me. He catches my eye as well and begins motioning to me. I guess he does want to be allies after all. From what I can tell, he wants me to run around to him and hide in the forest with him, forgetting about the weapons. I point at the knives but he shakes his head no. I don't care, I'm going for them anyway, they're right there, it would be the biggest missed opportunity; it might mean my life or death.

I look over to the left and see a new set of eyes on me. It's Portia. Her brown eyes are fixed on me. Her hair is tied up in a high ponytail that whips around in the cold wind. She flashes her teeth at me in a malicious smile. I stare at her silently and then she turns away and looks at her district partner.

Looking back at the timer above the Cornucopia, I realize I have ten seconds left. I never look back at Billee, but I know I'm getting those knives, no matter what he has to say.

10…

9…

8…

7…

6…

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

The gong rings and everyone sprints towards the Cornucopia. I only see about two or three people run towards the forest, but I don't know whom they are.

As I sprint down to get my throwing knives, I witness the first death. The Munstead already has a sword that he stabs right through the District 8 girl. Shaking the image from my mind, I reach down, about to get my throwing knives, and an arrow flies past my forearm. I look down the side of the Cornucopia and see Portia with a bow and arrow pointed at me, wearing that same smile she had before. I dive to the left as she releases another arrow from her bow. Barely dodging that one, I bolt at her as fast as I can. Before she can send another arrow flying, I knock her down without falling. She begins to scramble up but instinct kicks in and I kick her in the face while she is still on the ground. She lets out a bloodcurdling scream and clenches her face with her hands. I can see a little blood from her nose let out before she can cover her face completely. Then, a hand grabs my shoulder and I turn quickly and throw a punch. I see Billee and he catches my fist before it makes contact with his face.

"Come on, let's get out of here!" he shouts at me over the other screams we hear from the other dying tributes.

I look back at the throwing knives that still sit there, and before I can make another move to get them, Billee pulls me along.

We took about three steps before Tonee from District 4 grabs Billee by the shirt collar and throws him against the metal of the Cornucopia. I hear a loud clank before I turn around sprinting, in fear of the other tribute.

How can I just leave Billee like this? I'm running, safe, and he's back there, probably getting beaten senseless because I'm too selfish to try and help him. _"It's all because he wouldn't let me get those knives."_ I tell myself. But I know I'm wrong. It is still because I'm selfish.

I keep a good sprint towards the forest that was originally to the left of me. I run right through the action, getting blood sprayed at me from several different people. Finally, I dash through the trees and take a couple of branches to the face. Then, out of nowhere, the ground heads down on a sharp angle, and I trip and fall. Down that hill I tumble, hitting logs and rocks and dirt. After about a minute of rolling and falling, I hit the ground at the bottom of the hill. I lay there for a minute without the strength to stand. I can still hear feint screams from those still at the Cornucopia.

Then, I get up. Nothing broken, just a few bruises and a small cut on my forehead. I'm still able to walk, which is good. Looking behind me, I see the hill that attacked me. It is definitely steep, and definitely long. I'm surprised that I got out of falling with no injury. Finally, I walk in the opposite direction, hoping to find some sort of food source. No, _water_ was the thing Garry told me to look for first. So, I keep a good pace, looking around for any signs of water.

The forest is definitely meant for hiding. There are hollow logs, piles of branches, bushes, and little hills and boulders everywhere. Yet, there is no mud or moss, no sign of water. Looking up, I find that the trees that blanket the forest are tall, very tall, with no means of climbing them, either. _"I guess the fighting will remain on the ground."_ I think as I keep walking.

After about two hours of walking, the cannon booms, signaling the deaths of tributes. It always takes a while for the cannon to fire after the Bloodbath since there are so many dead to count. Nine booms I count, nine people dead within the last two hours. It's weird to think that a handful of people that I had seen only a little while ago are gone, away with the hovercrafts to be sent to their districts in a wooden coffin.

Another hour or so passes and I hear another cannon fire. The Careers had probably found a hopeless tribute and tortured them before killing them. That was always the way of the Careers.

During the rest of the day, I walk, looking for mainly for water but keeping an eye out for berries. It isn't fun having no tools or weapons to hunt with. A source of protein is good to gain strength and energy, so nuts and meat would be a priority. But, with the luck I have, I can only find berries. Thinking back to what I learned in the Training Center, I can easily remember the berries that were edible and the ones that were not. By nightfall, I have a little meal of berries for dinner. I rest against a tree that is surrounded by bushels of edible berries in case I get a little hungry after I eat, and I get started on my dinner. On my twelfth berry, I hear footsteps crunching the dead leaves that cover the forest floor. The person whose footsteps they are aren't too far away, but it's getting dark, so they probably couldn't see me in my plum red jacket. I scurry under some of the bushes and wait for the person to get close enough. When they get closer to me, they stop, and look in my direction. _"This is it," _I think to myself _"I'm about to die."_

To my surprise, the tribute isn't looking at me, but at the berries, which I find out when they take one of them and chew on it slowly and cautiously. It is obvious that this person can't tell if they are poisonous or not but is dense enough to take a chance with them on the first day. The tribute then proceeds to work on a portion of the bush with a knife, hoping to get a good amount of the bush to carry with them and eat along the way. It is all too tempting, an unsuspecting tribute with a knife, having no idea that I'm there, in the exact bush they are taking berries from. As the tribute saws their knife forward, I grabbed it and yanked it out of their hand. They are so unsuspecting of a person in a bush, so it's easy to take their knife. A searing pain burns through the palm of my hand and I quickly realize I've cut it on the blade. I hear the tribute let out a shriek of surprise and I jump out of the bush. I can barely make out a braid coming from the tribute's hair, so I know it's a girl. She throws her fist at me angrily, letting out a grunt along the way. Using my right hand, I catch her fist and jab her in the chest with my knife. She screams at the top of her lungs in pain and she collapses on the floor, twitching and holding her chest. I bent down and stab her in the throat, hoping to kill her quickly rather than let her suffer, and hoping to get her to shut up before anyone else hears her. After a few more stabs, her cannon fires, signaling her death. I can't see her face very well, but I can see the silver district number on her sleeve that looks bright in the moonlight. District 11.

I sprint some distance away from her body before the hovercraft picks her up and carries her away. The Careers love to hunt at night and love to look in the area that a hovercraft was most recent to find the person who killed the other tribute. Therefore, I get a few miles away before sitting against a tree to sleep again. When I sit down, I zip up my jacket and notice some dried blood on my hands. On my right hand, the cut goes right across the entire palm of my hand and a little on my fingers. When I notice the wound, it begins to grow painful again, throbbing as much as possible. I bite on my cheek so I don't let out any sound of pain. At midnight, the Capitol seal lights up in the sky and the anthem rings, showing the fallen tributes. The boy from District 4, the girl from District 6, both from District 7, the girl from 8, the boy from 9, the girl from 10, both from 11, and both from District 12. Eleven down in one day, not bad. From now on, though, the deaths would be less often. I set my priorities for the next day: find water and learn to use this knife well. It's not a throwing knife, but it'll have to do. Billee is still on my mind, but I knew I already set myself too far away from him to find him again easily. At least he hasn't died yet. He will just have to wait for now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – Day 2 – 13 Tributes**

I'm waken up early by hundreds of birds chirping in the trees. I can see them plain as day, hanging all on the dead branches of the thin trees. They seem to stare at me, longing for something. As much as I try to ignore them, they continue to stare. Then, when the sun fully rises, they fly away. Only a few birds remain, but the ones that stay go about doing bird things. It's like they forgot they were ever staring.

My stomach begins to groan so I get myself together and stand up. I find more of the berries and I chew them slowly to really get the juices. I want my hydration to last a while. I fear that water will be too difficult to find, that it is something to make the game interesting. So many people will die due to dehydration, and I don't intend on being one of them.

After I eat, I practice throwing the knife I gained from the tribute at some of the trees for practice. It isn't a throwing knife, a bit more of a knife for cutting rope or branches, so it is a lot heavier than a normal throwing knife. It takes me a while to get the best throw from it, but once I do, I pack my things up and I'm on my way. My belongings are minimal; I just have berries in my pocket and knife in my hand. Water is my main concern. One can live about three days without food, but without water, one can only live about two days. It is already my second day, so at this point, water is a necessity.

The trees around me are calming at first but then they start to annoy me. I'm alone with nobody to talk to and trees surround me that all look the same. Trees with dead arms and no leaves. You can perfectly see the gray sky above. It looks as if it's about to snow but it's not. The air is too warm. I want to say about seventy degrees. I could practically strip of this jacket and pants because I'm starting to sweat so much.

By the afternoon, my tongue is dry and my throat is developing small spots that can never get enough saliva. I begin to worry for myself. Two days is only an estimate; I could easily die tonight. My stomach starts to gurgle, asking for more food. After eating the left over berries in my pocket, I relocate the place with the bushes and pluck and eat a ton of them, hoping their juice will suffice for now. It doesn't really, but it is the best I can do.

The day goes by slow but I mainly search around where the berries are for water. I figure that if there are so many bushes, they have to have a water source. Drinkable water must be close by.

At what I judge was eleven o'clock or so at night, a cannon fires. The Careers are out hunting again and have weeded out another weak tribute, so I'm not worried that it's Billee. He is too smart to die this early.

Half of us left.

I find a place in the bushes as I did last night. My hood helps me camouflage the light hair I have on my head from the moonlight. I'm sure nobody can recognize me in the mass of bushes I found. I'm literally laying down, covered up right in the middle of them.

The Capitol seal and the anthem show right on queue and presents one face, the boy from District 8 that died only an hour ago. Based off what I remember from last night, District 8 is completely eliminated at this point. I close my eyes and hear an owl hoot before I fall asleep. I feel alone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – Day 3 – 12 Tributes**

When I wake up, my throat is completely dry and I am barely making enough saliva.

The black birds from yesterday hang on the trees and look down at me. They start to chirp and squawk when I stand up.

I go to the bathroom by a tree only to notice my pee is a copper brown and I begin to get dizzy, unable to stand for long periods of time. Every so often I have to take rest stops against trees. No matter how far I walk, there seems to be no water. I question if anyone else is dehydrated. Obviously not the Careers since they're running out and killing every night.

As I walk, my heart pounds extremely hard at some points, and I gasp each time it occurs. It's scary, being this unhealthy. I know my life will last a few hours more before I die from dehydration. I try to think of songs in my head but each time I do I repeat lyrics and forget some here and then. Eventually my head hurts so I stop.

In the late afternoon, I start to forget what I'm doing, and I stop sweating by sunset. My body is losing water quickly.

By nightfall, I faint. One minute I'm walking and the next I wake up on the ground, the sky dark as ever. I don't get up because I feel as if there's a two hundred pound weight on my chest. I've exhausted my energy and I realize I forgot to eat any food today. After about ten minutes of me sitting without movement, the anthem comes on. I watch the Capitol seal appear in the sky and reveal no deaths before black spots grow in my eyes and I fall asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – Day 4 – 12 Tributes**

I wake up on my left side and the sunrise is hitting through the thin trees, blinding me. I can still see the birds, though. They call to each other too, creating an awful but lasting harmony in my head. The light seems to shine directly in my eyes and my head begins to pound, feeling as if it is about to break my skull open. I lay there for a while and think about not even thoughts but just pictures. I get a glimpse of my mother and Annie and Miranda and Billee. They all sit there smiling and the light in my eyes continuously gets brighter. I'm either going to heaven or the sun is still rising.

It is a struggle to stand up, but once I do, I fall over. I crawl a little bit and then try to stand up again with the help of a tree. I fall again. Then, I crawl. Then, I stand. Then, I fall. It is no use; I cannot stand.

My heart rate is slow, slower than I'd ever felt. This is it; I'm going to die in a few minutes.

I can't though, not from this. This isn't right. If I'm going to die here, I'd rather be slaughtered by a Career. It probably sounds crazy, but dying of dehydration just isn't good enough for me. I've barely even the chance to fight for my survival, I've just been laying here in the dirt.

I decide to crawl again. At this point, I'm dragging my legs behind me. They're no longer able to move, I have not the strength to do so. Finally, I'm out of breath from pulling my body with my arms, and I lay prone in the mud, my cheek soaking in the dampness of the ground.

I dig my nails into the wet dirt below me. It is cold and soggy. I make a noise in discomfort. I still don't want to die like this. Wait—mud! Mud means water supply! It all clicks in my head and I frantically move around on my stomach to locate the source of water. It's hard to tell from so far away, but there is a round collection of flat rocks that hold a pond of clean water in the center of them. Using my hands, I pull myself to the rocks, slowly but surely. I have this sort of adrenaline rush. I will not stop. Once I get to the edge of the water, my whole body slides into the pond. The water is cold and crisp, definitely clean. Well, until I submerge my dirty body in it.

Despite the fact that I have just contaminated it, I drink water right from the pond. My body immediately feels relieved. It's like I can feel the cold water circulating in my blood and finding my arms and hands and fingers. Within a few hours, my skin has returned to its normal color and I am able to stand and move around. I tell myself to take it easy for the rest of the day since I was on the verge of death not too long ago. I cautiously collect nuts from shorter trees nearby and sit on the rocks around the pond to eat them. The pond is almost a perfect circle, about thirty feet across. The flat rocks around it continue past the pond and create a straight clearing in the trees. Anyone can find me here, but the water is still pretty clean, so I decide to stay next to it to keep myself hydrated. I lay down on one of the rocks and stay there eating until midnight. The Capitol seal is in the sky and the anthem plays, still with no faces to show. I accidentally fall asleep on the rocks, but I am safe for the night.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 – Day 5 – 12 Tributes**

When I wake up to the squawking, the first thing I do is throw my knife into a nearby tree. The birds that are always there fly away when the knife hits the tree. I'm still able to use the knife I got as a throwing knife pretty well, so I decide to go hunting. First, I wash my hair and tie it up in a ponytail that rests on my shoulder. I drink some water and then I go for a walk to find something to hunt and let my hair dry in the sun. This morning is a little colder, maybe down to the 50s.

It's funny, though. Day five and nobody had been killed since day two. From what I've saw in the other Hunger Games I could remember, the deaths were fast paced and the Games only lasted about a week or so. My mother told me that every so often there would be a year that just didn't go by quick enough. Then, worry struck me. On those years, my mother told me the Gamemakers would set off explosions, flood different areas, or even send in mutts to speed things along and get the tributes all into one area. People would die easily from the obstructions and others would die when they were forced to cross paths with other tributes. To get my mind off of the idea, I eat a few nuts that are left over from last night and keep walking.

I keep towards the right of the straight path of stones. I don't want to lose my water supply, so I look every so often to make sure I haven't lost my spot. The trees get fatter and fatter as I go. Some of them even have branches that you can climb. Maybe I was wrong about the fighting staying on the ground.

A little after noon, I had two squirrels. I knew I should wait until sunset to set a fire so that it blended in with everything as best as possible. The sad thing was that I didn't even know how to set a proper fire. I'd watched a few tributes at the fire-making station in the Training Center, so I had some idea on how to make one, but I knew I wouldn't be any good at it. I kept the squirrels in either pocket of my pants and I continued on.

Looking at the sun, I can tell it's almost three o'clock, so I have to go back now.

I decide to cross over the rock path to the other side, the left side of the path, to see what's over there. On my way back I see tons of berry bushes but they're all picked clean. Something's not right. Someone has been here recently. You can still see the juice leftover on the stems of the picked berries.

My stomach starts to churn and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. _"You're almost there, Atala, just keep walking."_ I tell myself. My pace becomes quicker. I look up at the fat trees and look at the branches that twirl around each other and block the light.

Then, I feel a tug on both my feet, and I fall to the ground.

Before I know it, I am swung up and am hanging upside down by the feet, which are each stuck in a noose made of thick rope. I look around frantically and see another rope going from the tree I was stuck in and a tree near it snap. Then, a few large branches fall to the floor, making a loud thud as they crash to the ground. I begin to hear shouting in the distance, first a girl shouting and then a guy shouting. It must be the Careers. They're so clever with their traps. I should have trusted my initial instinct and just walked to the other side of the path, but, no, I had to be stubborn and lazy and just keep on going after I already moved to the other side. I have to get out of here quickly. It is still bright out, so even if I have a head start they will still be able to see me. I'll have to get really far ahead.

As their voices remain far away but slowly grow closer, I take the knife from my pocket, which subsequently made one of my squirrels fall, and saw away at the rope on my left leg. Once my foot is released, the rope tightly shuts on my right foot. I begin to panic more and saw away at the rope more feverishly. When I'm almost finished, part of the branch the rope was attached to snaps slightly. Then, the branch swings down a good amount but doesn't break entirely. I hit my head on the trunk of the tree and drop my knife on accident. I'm still caught in the rope and I have no resources to get out of it. Still, the Careers' voices get closer and closer, more quickly this time. There are only two people. I can almost make out what they were saying, and I can tell it is a boy and a girl. If one of them is Portia, I will surely die a painful death.

I started to panic more and my heart races. At this point I just shake and shake and shake and finally the branch snaps the rest of the way. The branch and I fall until we hit the hard packed ground. My right foot is still underneath the branch, and I hit my ankle funny on the way down. Pushing the branch away and reaching for my knife that is now next to me on the ground, I cut my foot free and limp away from the scene. My ankle is numb from the pain, but I don't care. I just need to get away from the Careers. I find the stone path and just hobble down that. It seems to never end.

At some point I can hear the Careers' shouts of anger. I'm sure they can tell a tribute was caught at one point, especially since I left one of my dead squirrels there. Finally, after their voices fade away, I hide in a collection of bushes. They are also deprived of their berries, but I can still use their leaves for hiding behind. By midnight, the anthem plays and the Capitol seal reflects in the night sky, showing no faces once more. Imagine if I did get caught back at the trap and Billee had to see my face up there. I truly hope I never see his face and he never sees mine. I know that it's inevitable, but it's just too painful to think of the agony the other person would go through. He may hate me now, but he's still my only friend here.

Again, I think of the fact that the people in the Capitol will soon be getting bored and the Gamemakers will have to set off disasters that will bring the tributes together. Then, I wonder if I will get any sponsors during the Games. "Not likely." I think to myself, and I go to bed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 – Day 6 – 12 Tributes**

I wake up to the birds chirping and stalking as usual. Through the clean-picked bush I can see the sun at about 9:00 in the air. As I stand up and grab my knife, the birds fly away. The only thing I can think to do right now is return to the small pond for water. I walk along the stones this time, plain in the open. My footsteps echo against the rocks with each step I take. It's beautiful out here, the white and grey rocks along the greenery around me. I have the morning sun in my face and I feel good.

When I reach the pond I drink some water and then wash my hair out. Then, I drink some more. It's obviously not sanitary to be bathing and washing your body in water and then drinking it, but it's the only water source I have and I need it to survive.

Next, I sit on the rocks and stare at the woods, longing for something meaty to eat. I consider hunting but then I realize I have one the squirrels still in my pocket. I find some dry wood and some kindling and I set up a little pile right on the rocks. I use two stones and rub them together vigorously and get nowhere. An hour or so passes and I've given up. There's no use in trying if I'm not getting anywhere. Instead, I pick more berries and nuts and eat those along the rocks. Towards the afternoon, I take the squirrel and chuck it into the woods. By tomorrow it'll be spoiled and no good for cooking even. I don't want to risk getting sick. I have no use for this food.

The day seems to go nowhere; it's been 12 o'clock for the past three hours. I decide to go for a walk. There have been no signs of other tributes, so I figure looking around couldn't hurt. My legs take me into the forest once more. I walk further back from where the rocks are. I've never explored this area but I find it's beautiful. The trees grow thicker and the hills roll around the area, moss covering the trunks of the trees and tall, wet grass covering the hills. Just rich green all around. Eventually, I take a rest stop at a fallen tree. I sit on it and pick a new kind of berry from a bush next to it. I immediately recognize the berry and just eat it immediately. After having the same type of berry to eat for the past six days, I'm glad to finally eat something fresh. This berry is what they call a matchberry. The reason being that the berry is red on the top and then slowly turns yellow at the bottom, so it kind of looks like a small flame. They're tangy and sweet and just what I like, personally, so I take hundreds of them and just stow them in my pocket for later.

As I'm picking the matchberries, I begin to hear footsteps. They're coming from the opposite direction, sloshing around in the wet grass. I can hear voices too. Immediately I think they're Careers, so I jump over the fallen tree and lay down behind it. It's too late to make a run for it, so hiding will just have to do.

The pair of footsteps comes closer and closer until I can make out the voices. But it's not two Careers; it's two kids. They've got to be young, like maybe 12 or 13 at the most. A girl and a boy, walking right next to each other. I begin to hear their conversation.

"…and she flipped out completely, it was outrageous." The girl laughs.

"Yeah, it's funny now, but when we she kills us it won't be as funny." The boy says, laughing right with her.

"Who knows we'll die?" the girl says, practically in whisper. You can tell she's still joking around. "Maybe we'll both win."

"Yeah, sure."

"Hey, you never know! Imagine: 'The two youngest tributes win the 62nd Annual HUNGER GAMES!'" she shouts in an announcer voice. You can hear the boy slap her nylon jacket. He hushes her.

"Do you want them to hear you?!"

"Oh, stop overreacting. Why don't we camp here for the night, it looks like it'll get dark soon. We want to keep as close to the edge as possible."

"That sounds good."

"I'm gonna go look for dry wood."

"I doubt there's any around here."

"Well, what else is there to do now? Just set up our camp, will yah?"

The girl walks down further away from me and the boy begins to set up their camp right on the opposite side of the fallen tree. My breaths are short and shallow. If they hear me, I'm gonna die. No, wait. Maybe I won't. Maybe I can use them as allies. But only maybe. Should I take the chance? I'm still not sure.

The boy is fiddling around with something and making a lot of noise. It's evident they have supplies. You can hear it all jingling around. I begin to think my best chance is with them. Slowly, I start to move to stand up but then I stop again. I ask myself _'Are you absolutely sure this is the best idea?'_ Yes, I finally figure out.

My decision is to stand up as abruptly and quickly as possible. When I rise, my pants and shirt are soaked from the ground, and I can see the boy sitting there, squatting, and handling a sleeping bag. He immediately looks up and his eyes get big with fright. Quickly, he stands up and wields a sword. He begins to talk firmly to me, as if he's practiced this in his mind tons of times.

"I'm gonna kill you if you make a move. Get out. Leave us alone."

"Okay, just hear me out first." I begin. "What if we became allies—you and your friend? We could make a really good team."

"You're lying to me."

"No, really, I'm not. I can show you, I have a water supply and I know a lot about the plants and… and… I can throw knives really well!" I'm practically begging at this point. I need a partner or partners. It would make me look better, stronger.

"No—I—uh…. DELLY!" he shouts as loud as he can.

I begin to panic. What is he trying to do? I still stand there with my arms up in protection even though he's across the fallen tree from me. Then, the girl comes running over. I subsequently learn her name is Delly.

"Get out." Delly says to me in the same voice her friend did.

"Delly," I say. She seems shocked that I know her name. "I just want to be allies. I told this to your friend-"

"Jack."

"…I told this to _Jack_ already. I really want to help you guys and have you guys help me in return." Delly picks up a bow and arrow and points it at me. She pulls an arrow back in the string and I stand there still.

"Please, just don't hit me. I just want to work together, please, that's all." I'm somehow threatened by a 12 year old holding a bow.

"Just watch." She says. She releases the arrow and I close my eyes shut. However, I hear the arrow land far away. I open my eyes and find its sky blue fletchers sticking out from a patch of grass a few yards away.

"And that," Delly tells me. "was my attempt to hit you." I just stare at her, confused as to what that was trying to show me.

"Can you teach someone how to use a bow?" she looks at me and her blue eyes open wide. She really does want my help, you can tell. Delly has blonde hair just like mine except for the fact that it's straight. Like mine, Delly's hair is pulled into a ponytail. However, hers is much shorter and only falls to the bottom of her neck and hangs in the back.

"I can try." I respond to her. She looks at Jack and then they whisper for a minute and I still stand on the opposite side of the fallen tree.

"You're with us, I guess." Delly says to me. I step over the fallen tree. The moss beneath my foot squishes down gently. I feel as if the atmosphere changes. The negativity and defense has faded and Jack and Delly are accepting of me, even though I'm new.

"By the way, I'm Atala."

I tell my allies to get their things together. They apparently haven't had water in a while, too, so I automatically think to bring them to my pond. I decide to leave out the fact that I've drenched my disgusting, dehydrated body in it.

We walk for about an hour to my pond. Along the way, I find out that the two found each other at the Cornucopia, each with an identical book bag. They both have a water bottle, a sleeping bag, and their own weapon. Delly has her bow and arrow; Jack has his sword. They've been trying to avoid everyone and make it to the end by hiding. I tell them my story and how I got to where I am now. Delly seems interested and Jack can care less, but he's listening anyway. While still walking, Delly asks me how I got to learn to use the throwing knives so well. Apparently she watched me with her district partner on the days where I failed and succeeded in front of the Careers. I tell her that the easiest way to do better was to believe in myself. It sounds cheesy but I had no faith in myself originally and I really just don't know what other answer to give her. The hard work and determination really paid off, but my main motivation was self-confidence. I tell her these things, and when we get to the rocks and the pond, I begin to try and teach her how to use a bow. I think back to the times I stared at Portia when she used her bow.

"Alright, so what you're gonna do is hold the bow in your left arm—you're right handed, right?"

"Yeah." She says to me.

"Okay so you'll hold it like that…" I position the bow in her arms and pull her right arm with the string back for her. Jack laughs. I look at him rolling on the ground in laughter and then look at how I'm standing with Delly. It's like those awful romantic things where the guy teaches the girl how to hold something. We all begin to laugh and consequently were all on the floor. After laughing for a while, Jack goes to get water from the pond for his water bottle. While he's over there, Delly begins to shout at him, still giggling.

"You know, Jack, you have no reason to laugh at us!"

"Uhuh and why's that?"

"Because of your full name!"

"NO! Don't tell her! Delly, if you tell her I swear—" Delly turns to me, interrupting him in the process.

"His full name's not Jack." She says to me, smiling.

"Oh really?" I say back to her, a smile approaching on my face. "So what _is_ his full name?"

"Do you really wanna know?" Delly says, practically laughing too much to be understandable at this point. Jack begins to run over, laughing just as hard.

"Delly! I told you no!" He tackles her and begins to tickle her. They don't like each other in a relationship way, but you can tell just how well they get along from their interaction.

"Tell me it, quick!" I shout to Delly, who's already crying from laughing.

"It's…it's…I…it's" she manages to say while she's still laughing.

"Don't you dare!" Jack says, tickling her more.

"IT'S JACKALOPE!" she screams. I begin dying. It's the most ridiculous name I've ever heard. And obviously you don't make fun of someone's name because it's rude, but I figure they're all laughing about it, so why not. We all sit there laughing for a while, just the three of us. When we quiet down, we realize just how loud we were. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in the arena heard us. Then I think about it again. In that moment I honestly forgot I was in these Games.

The rest of the day consists of me teaching Delly how to use the bow. I teach to the best of my ability before I can honestly teach no more without bull-shitting techniques. I leave my two allies to set up a fire (they apparently know how to) while I go to hunt. I come back with a bird and a squirrel and I see a nice fire before me. We cook the meat of both the animals and I end up with the whole bird and Delly and Jack split the squirrel because it has more meat on it. The three of us talk about our lives back at home. I learn that Delly is from District 9 and Jack is from District 10. We share stories of our everyday lives and our friends back at home. It's only been a short few weeks but I'm already nostalgic about Annie and my mother. But not my father. I don't forgive him still. Even if it was an accident that he didn't come to see me when I was reaped, I still don't find a way to forgive him. I don't know why.

Jack is the first to fall asleep and Delly and I decide to stay up to watch the anthem play. Delly tells me that she always wakes up from it, so there's no use of trying to fall asleep beforehand. The two of us see the Capitol seal just hover in the sky without showing names. I hope something happens soon, because if it doesn't, we're surely going to see a trick or two from the Gamemakers. I turn to Delly to ask her what we should do tomorrow, but she's already asleep. I look back up at the sky and think about how the six days I've spent here have seemed so quick. We're all laying on a separate rock around the pond. I move my left hand away from my body and dip it in the pond, swirling around the water a little while I still stare at the sky. The water is cold but the air is warm. I smile at the thought of cold water. Annie told me of a prank he pulled on her brother where she dipped his hand in cold water while he was asleep and he peed his pants. I shuffle my body away from the pond a little and fall asleep easily.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 – Day 7 – 12 Tributes**

Instead of waking up to the birds chirping and squawking, I wake up to the birds screeching and swarming the area around the pond. They're not even graceful, they're loud and terrifying, pecking at my face and arms. I stand up immediately and I look over to see Delly screaming. Jack is screaming just as much. The birds seem to be coming from every direction, and looking up I can't even tell what time it is because the birds form a dark cloud over the sky.

I quickly assume this is the Gamemakers' obstacle, their challenge.

I'm displeased.

With my arms to block my face, I throw some of Jack and Delly's stuff into their book bags. The birds peck at everything and don't stop: my ears my eyes my head my neck. I'm afraid they're going to rip me open any second. The thing I can compare them most to is a zombie or an animal with rabies. They've all gone mad.

Suddenly, Jack pulls my arm and I see that they both have their respective book bags on. Delly is already running into the forest, and Jack pulls me along towards her. I check my back pocket quickly to make sure my knife is still there, and it is. Now, we have to escape the birds.

They're all black. From their eyes to their feathers to their feet to their beaks: all black. I know this as a sign of bad things from all the books I've read. Anyone can tell this is a bad sign. They're out to kill, not just hurt. The people want a show, and a show is what they'll get.

I get my first cut on my forehead. One of the birds swoops down to get ahold of my forehead but misses, and it's sharp beak just scrapes against my forehead. I have a cut there and then I get a sharp pain in my thigh. It's excruciating. As we continue to run past logs and branches and rocks, I look down. There's a bird literally stuck in my right thigh, it's beak driven in just far enough to get stuck. My reaction is to slap at it until it falls off and then scream as loud as possible when I see blood begin to flow from it. I stumble a bit and Jack yells at me.

"WE HAVE TO KEEP GOING!" he cries to me. It's almost too much work to try and hear him due to all the calls from all of the birds. Imagine five birds that squawk. Five can wake you up in the morning. Now imagine hundreds, chirping in the same way. It's something that can lead you to insanity.

We continue to run and then Delly trips on a branch. She had been leading us, but in the chaos of everything, Jack and I get a little ahead of her before we realize she's fallen. We turn back and see her flailing on the ground and I can't stand to see her die from stupid birds.

"STAY HERE!" I shout to Jack. He nods his head and jumps around waving his arms and body around to dodge the birds. He's still okay, no injuries or wounds. My thigh is bleeding profusely.

I run to Delly and gather her up. She has some major jabs in her back, but nothing too serious. We stand up together and then I turn around, ready to run to Jack. What I see, though, terrifies me.

I don't know how, but Jack is actually being shredded to bits. I can see him move around a bit, scared half to death at first from the number of birds on him, but then nothing. Too many have taken a bite of him, and he's slowly brought to a heap of blood and flesh. I vomit right then and there and hear Delly scream a bloodcurdling scream. I drag her to the side and keep her running. We run and run and run and finally make it through a clearing of bushes and tall plants as the birds begin to let out. Less and less of them fly until finally there are about none left. Delly and I sit there trying to catch our breath and Delly mumbles to me, tears rolling down her red face. I can't look at her like this. She has no concern for her bleeding back, just for Jack.

"We—need—to—go—back. He's still—alive" she manages to say. She's crying ridiculously, and I begin to cry too.

"No, Delly, what's done is done—"

"NO!" she screams directly to my face. "WE HAVE TO GO BACK!" She stands up and begins to walk away but I grab her by the arm. A pain in my thigh strikes me.

"Stop it." I say to her, keeping myself strong. "Stop." She keeps moving away from me. Finally I pull her as sharply as I can and push her to the ground. "DON'T YOU GET IT, HE'S DEAD; HE'S GONE!"

She sits there trembling, registering the words I've just shouted at her. Then, she sobs.

I sit down and sob with her. We sob together for hours. Just the two of us.

We both cry until I finally stop and collect myself. I sit there still, holding Delly in my arms. She begins to mumble to herself. She mumbles words of denial, crazy people words. I can vaguely understand her but I know she's going through so much pain, so I let her mumble to me, and I agree with her, giving her the constant "I know" and "It's gonna be alright."

By nightfall, Delly has reached a stage of consistent gasps for breath and heavy breathing. I sit there, still holding onto her, rubbing her back along the way. Eventually, she drinks some water from her bag and sits still. She periodically stands up and looks around, then sits back down as if nothing is wrong. Finally, we both lie down and try to fall asleep. I stare at the stars just as I did the night before and wonder where in the arena I'd be if Jack were still here. We wouldn't even be here if he was, we'd be at an entirely different spot.

I jump when the anthem starts. I was so deep in thought that I hadn't noticed it got so late. After the anthem, I see the first few faces I've seen in a while. One of which is Jack's and the other Pony's. I remember her from the interviews; she was the District 3 girl. There was nothing special about her; I just felt the need to memorize the first few tributes. I don't remember hearing the canon boom for her, but then I realize I didn't hear a canon boom for Jack either. The birds were too loud to hear anything, really.

I continue looking at the stars and I notice Delly's been holding my left arm like a doll. She breathes on my shoulder a soft breath and I turn to look at her. You can see the sorrow in her face. Even while she's dreaming she can still feel the reality. I feel so sorry for her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 – Day 8 – 10 Tributes**

In the morning, the birds awaken me once again. There are less of them this time, but their chirps are just as loud, it seems. Delly remains silent. I doubt she'll talk to me this whole day. However, I tell her to get up, and we walk around to find food and water as if nothing's wrong again.

I question where we are in my head. When the birds attacked, there was such confusion that I really cannot tell where we're walking towards and away from. The fact that the terrain of the forest changes constantly doesn't help the situation.

We continue walking, though, for an hour or two. The sun is bright and the weather is warm, warmer then it's been in a while. I look at Delly every so often. She's staring straight ahead, keeping her thoughts to herself. I want to help her get her mind off of Jack, but I have no way to do so. Do I talk to her? Do I cook a meal for her? The answer I do not know.

As we walk, the trees begin to stand more scattered, and the ground finally becomes flat. The trees are still bare, their brown leaves crunching beneath us in the grass. Then, the trees stop, and there's a fifty foot clearing in the trees and then nothing. The ground mysteriously ends. I find out that there's a cliff that just falls and falls and falls for hundreds of feet, a cliff that would kill you if you fell off it. This is the barrier of the arena. Looking ahead, there are lush green mountains and clouds but there's also no way of getting to them.

Delly picks up a rock from the ground and speaks for the first time in hours.

"I wonder if something happens down there."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, with the guy in the Second Quarter Quell."

I have no idea what she's talking about, so I giver her a blank stare.

"The one that threw the rock down to the barrier and it bounced back up to him?"

I keep giving her a blank stare.

"It's how he won." She drops the rock straight down. It falls and falls down the hundreds of feet but before it can even get close to reaching the bottom, it dissolves into a mist of sparks and makes a sharp zapping noise.

Delly and I stand there just looking at the bottom of the cliff. Wind blows my hair into my face and I realize how greasy and dirty it is. I tell Delly that we should find a place with water again. She agrees and we walk the opposite direction, keeping careful to know where the end of the arena is so we have a sense of location.

Eventually, we find a pond much like the one I used for a while but a bit larger. Delly scoops some water into her bottle and then we both scrub down our arms and then we wash our hair. By then it's almost dark, so we walk around separately and try to look for food. I come back with a rabbit and she comes back with berries.

"I tried using my bow," she says to me "but I'm still not so great at aiming."

"You'll get better." I reassure her. Our conversations have been small talk like this since the arena barrier. She's still upset about Jack, you can hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes.

We eat a good meal tonight. I'm somehow able to make a fire on my own without Delly's help, so we cook the rabbit and have most of the berries. We leave some left over meat and fruit for tomorrow, in case we run out of food. Delly stomps out the fire and I lay down with the smell of smoke in my nose.

The two of us lay side by side. It's not even late yet but we're both tired. Tired of walking, tired of being upset. The sky is almost black and the stars are finally visible. Tonight, I fall asleep before the anthem plays, but I know no one else has died.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 – Day 9 – 10 Tributes**

The birds wake me up once more. Delly is already awake, sitting on the ground and closing her arms around her legs.

"You ready?" she asks.

"For what?"

"I don't know. Walking?"

"Yeah." I stand up and notice her bag is packed and ready to go.

I'm wide-awake today. Last night was one of the best sleeps I've had since the Games started. Delly and I keep a consistent stride. There is so much silence but there are still a lot of people left. Well, maybe not. Ten people isn't too many, especially for this big of an arena. I think to myself that if someone doesn't die soon, there'll be another event created by the Gamemakers. I get sick to my stomach when I think about the birds. Then, I look at my leg. I've completely forgotten about the bird that lodged itself into my thigh. What I see is disturbing. My thigh is swollen and there is a ton of redness around where the beak punctured my skin. My heart races and I start to panic.

"Delly…"

"What?"

"We—we… have to go back to the pond, I have to wash this out." I sputter out.

Delly looks at my wound and tries to keep a straight face while saying it'll be okay. I hope she's right. We walk back to the pond and I wash the wound. My hands shake and my eyes tear. Pus begins to pour out the wound and I clean it up with a leaf that Delly gets me. She sits to the side, close enough for comfort but far enough away so she won't have to see anything.

I begin to cry. The pain becomes all too real. Somehow I've completely left this wound unnoticed. Maybe it was from all the time I spent worrying about Delly. I don't blame her but I'm upset with myself for not even caring about my health.

After a while, the wound is clean and the swelling has gone down just slightly. I cover it with a few clean leaves, hoping they'll cure it or something. I ask Delly about her back and when she shows me, all the little cuts and scratches are covered with scabs. She should be fine.

We walk again and I find my leg in a ton of pain. I just keep walking. It's such a strange thing, how my body decided to ignore my injury. I was so focused on something else I didn't even pick up the fact that I was walking with an infected wound on my leg.

Finally, Delly and I reach a tall hill. I immediately recognize this as part of the hill I fell down at the start of the Games. I tell Delly about how I just kept falling down it and she smiles and laughs. She's finally getting better.

We trudge up it and reach the clearing with the Cornucopia. The two of us stare at it in silence. I can see the pedestal I rose up on only nine days ago. It seems so foreign to me. I point it out to Delly and she points out her pedestal, which was almost completely opposite to mine. Then, Delly picks up on something strange.

"Where are all the weapons?"

I look around and see no weapons at the Cornucopia. Everything around it is gone. We don't have a direct view of the inside of the Cornucopia, though.

"Maybe they're all inside it."

"Should we go check it out?"

"No, wait." I tell her. I peek my head out of the trees and bushes for a second and look around. The sun is beating down on the gold of the Cornucopia. I don't see any movement around the area, so I decide for the both of us that it's okay to go.

We walk out a few feet. The air is warm refreshing. It's odd, noticing the difference between the air in the woods and the air in the open. With the comparison, I can tell that the air in the woods is much more moist and cold. In the open though, it's beautiful.

I take the lead and walk towards the mouth of the Cornucopia. Judging by the sun, it's around 2 o'clock. I keep my head up and take in the sun. Then, I put my head down and look at the Cornucopia. It's only about five feet away before a girl runs out of the thing and knocks me over.

I fall to the hard ground and look up. The girl that ran me over is attacking Delly, throwing slashes of a dagger but just barely missing her each time. I get up and pull the girl off Delly and throw her on the floor. I get my knife out from my back pocket and dive to the ground and take a stab. The girl rolls to the side and my knife is driven into the dirt. She gets up quickly and knocks Delly down, who is trying to position her arrow. I yank my knife from the dirt and lunge towards the girl. I recognize her as Thyme from the interviews. A shiny, silver "4" glows on her jacket sleeve. Before she can kill Delly with her dagger, I push her off with the weight of my body. We roll around for a second but Thyme ends up on top of me. I've lost my knife while we rolled around, so now I force her hands back as she forces them forward, pointing her dagger at me. Thyme is smart but not strong, so I do a good job of pushing the dagger back, but then it gets difficult. She begins to slowly edge the dagger closer and closer until finally she stops trying completely. I push the dagger back as far as possible and look at her eyes. They stare blankly at me and then roll back. The canon booms. Her dead body slumps forward and I push it to the side. There's an arrow directly in the back of her head. Delly stands there, holding her bow in her shaky right hand.

"Good job." Is all I can say to her. She walks to me and holds her hand out, pulling me up. I find my knife in the grass and then we walk to the Cornucopia and look inside. There are two blankets rumpled up and a few book bags strewn around.

"She's been living here." I think aloud.

"Well let's see what she had." Delly says to me. I look at her and she's smiling. I've never noticed this about her, but she has freckles. They run over her nose and reach each cheekbone. She's beautiful.

Delly walks over to one of the book bags and pulls out another water bottle and finds a blanket.

"Here, this'll be your book bag." I take it. Now we have our own.

Inside the other book bags are some dry food and more full water bottles. We divvy them up and walk out, about to leave. Then, Delly grabs my shoulder.

"Wait, did we open this bag?" I look at the floor and see the one she's talking about. We missed it somehow. Delly opens it up and gasps. There are six or seven medicines and ointments in it, and they're very valuable. We find an ointment for wounds and I rub it all over my leg. I then proceed to put it on Delly's back. We put all of the medications in Delly's bag and we walk out of the Cornucopia. Delly turns right but I stop her.

"Why don't go to the other side of the arena?"

"I don't know. Should we?"

"Well, yeah, why not?"

We take a left instead and walk to the other side of the arena. It's the same thing there as it was on the other side: all forest. However, on this side of the forest, there are leaves on the trees. Everything here seems so much nicer. The other side of the arena was dark and depressing while this side had a summery vibe to it. We were fighting to the death, but that didn't change the fact that this place was beautiful. Maybe the reason for my feelings about the two sides has to do with the fact that Jack died on the other side and nothing bad happened here yet. I'm not sure.

Delly and I keep walking straight. We come to the decision that walking all over the place will get us lost again, so we just continue straight.

Eventually, the thin and tall grass becomes short and mossy. More and more rocks are on the ground. Then, finally, all rocks on the ground and few trees. This area of land leads us to the most astonishing thing: a waterfall.

We stand at the bottom of it, but it's a huge one. There's just tons of fresh water parading down dark, almost black, smooth rocks. Reach down and touch the stream of water and I get an instant sensation of calmness. The water's cold and thin and perfect. Once again, this water is clearly edible. Delly and I pour out our old water and fill our bottles up with the new one. Then, we trek up the stream and climb up the rocks that create the waterfall. When we reach the top, we find that there's a clearing in the trees and the stream gets wider, causing the water to be very shallow. The two of us wash our hair and then find a good spot in the woods to sleep. There's a clearing with tall grass and huge boulders, so we seek refuge tucked almost underneath one of the boulders. The two of us are barely visible with our jackets. Mine's a plum red and Delly's is what I can only describe as a bottle green. The darkness makes us blend in easily.

While we lay there, trying to fall asleep, Delly whispers to me.

"What next?" she asks, but not looking directly at me. I turn to look at her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she begins. I hear her swallow. "I mean, what happens when there's less and less of us? What if we end up being the only two? There has to be a time when we split up, right?"

I honestly hadn't thought of this.

"Well, yeah." I reply, sitting up from my sleeping position.

"So..?"

"So… we'll figure it out as we go along. Okay?"

"You're right." She whispers and turns to her other side. I lie back down and face the other way, pulling my jacket closed. I think about the process of the Games. Delly always seems to think ahead and have a plan. I would have never thought of that, let alone us being close to that point, but if you think about it, almost two out of every three tributes are dead. We _are_ at that point where we should consider separating. But, I don't want to separate. I like her company and her thought process. On my own, I can barely do shit. With her, I can get a lot done. But then again, she has to be against me, right? In the moment, she's working with me, but soon she'll have to turn against me. Like, if it was the two of us in the end, I can't imagine her not turning against me, no matter how young she is.

These thoughts keep me up way past the anthem, but eventually I clear my mind and fall asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 – Day 10 – 9 Tributes**

I wake up extremely early in the morning. The sun hasn't risen yet; the sky just has this blue hue that you can barely see through. I'm not even awaken by the birds, as usual. I'm woken up from the sound of footsteps marching through the damp morning grass. It has to be about 5:00.

The footsteps are coming my way.

I look over at Delly, who's still asleep. I fear she might wake up and make noise, but I don't want to wake her up to tell her to stay quiet either. I decide to just lay flat. We're barely tucked under the curve of the rock, so I can see outside but I am most certain no one can see me. The footsteps continue closer and closer until I see two pairs of feet trudge right past my eyes. I hold my breath the whole time and let it out when they've finally gone. This encounter startles me. From the sound of their walking, you can hear tons of supplies rattling on their shoulders as the step. Obviously it's the Careers, and obviously they have a ton of stuff with them. But how? Then I realize. They must've taken the stuff from the Cornucopia, which is why it was so empty. But where could they possibly keep all of it? It's not like there's a few items at the Cornucopia, there's tons. Something doesn't add up but I can't find a solution to the flaws in what's going on, so I just keep my eyes peeled for any other tributes. Nobody passes for hours, and finally the sun rises and the birds chirp as usual. Delly wakes up and I tell her what I saw.

"Okay," she says. "If they really do have all the stuff, they have to have a place to keep it."

This is a good observation that I hadn't figured out yet.

"Well, where?"

"That's for us to find out." Delly climbs out from under the rock and stretches her arms and legs. We get our stuff together and Delly takes the lead by walking straight from where the Careers came from. You can easily see their footprints in the dirt because of how wet the ground was. Delly and I follow them for an hour and then stop for lunch. We sit with our backs on a tree and eat our food. The trees are just as thick as normal, but they seem shorter and their leaves are thinner. I can safely say this because there's just so much sunlight making it into the forest. I can see hundreds of feet ahead of me, as opposed to the other side of the arena where I couldn't see as much even though the trees had no leaves on them. We eat the leftover meat and berries from last night, and then pick up our stuff and continue following the tracks, which have dried now.

I have this constant worry that the Careers that passed us before are going to come back this way and kill us, but then after hours of them not coming, I figure out for myself it's safe.

Delly and I walk for only another hour or so before we see something in the distance that amazes me.

It's a house. In the middle of the forest. It's the size of a townhouse and it looks as if it's literally been ripped from the block of townhouses it was part of and place right here in the forest. There are steps leading up to its door and there are four windows on the front side, two on the bottom and two on the top, one more if you include the small window on the front door.

I stare at the house for a while until Delly pulls me aside.

"What?" I snap at her. I'm too interested in the house.

"What if there are other Careers in there?" I come to my senses and realize she's right. I just stare at her so she speaks again.

"Let's go see if we can find food for now and at night when they leave to find other tributes, we can sneak in and see what's inside." I nod my head at her and we walk past the house, careful to mark where we're walking so we don't lose it.

Through the day I get that stressed feeling again, as if the Careers are still watching me. Delly and I collect berries and squirrel nearby and walk around for the remainder of the day. Delly talks to me and I just nod my head, not really listening to her. I'm paranoid. There are nine of us left and Delly and I are meandering near a Career headquarters. There's no way this can be safe. I can't even fathom how Delly can be so resilient to the fear of death. It's apparent to her that these Games are no joke yet she toys with death anyway. Maybe she knows she's bound to die and decides to just do what she can? I have no idea.

I also think about Billee. It's been a while since I've thought of him, but I have this longing to find him. He hasn't died yet, so he's definitely doing well. But then again maybe he's recently injured and will die before tomorrow. Just thinking about the possible scenarios scares me. I care so much about Billee and even though I don't show it too often, I really have a heart for him. If anything were to happen to him without me there to help, I'd feel so ashamed. My mind resorts back to the day of the Bloodbath. I left him there. He was in need, getting beat up, and I left him. Selfish. Selfish. Selfish. That's my name, don't wear it out.

At the end of the day we have tons of food to last us a while. We wait in a nearby bush with a vantage point of the house. By nightfall we discover the house has lights. Then, we see the two Careers from this morning walk up to the house, unlock the front door, and walk inside. If we have any hopes of getting in, I doubt we'll be able to because the front door requires a key.

For another half hour, we sit waiting. I never have this much patience, but the anxiety is keeping me alert. Finally, Delly and I see four figures emerge from the house. One of them is holding a lantern that swings around in their hands. Once they get far enough, Delly and I approach the house.

The first thing I catch is that the porch is made of wood. Our footsteps make a thumping sound as we clobber up the steps. I yank on the doorknob but nothing happens. It's locked.

"Well now what?" I ask Delly. She looks at me and then looks up at the house. She runs down the stairs and onto the grass, only to look back up again.

"There." She points. There's a circular attic window with those weird panels on it. In front of it is part of the roof, which has a very shallow slant.

"By the looks of it this place is really old, so we'll be able to break through the wood easily."

"But how do we even get up there?" I ask her. I feel like I always limit her. There's always a question from my mouth. Why can't I just trust her?

"Well, you see…" she walks to the side of the stairs where one of the four windows is. "We have the windowsills." I look and I see what she's talking about. The windowsill of the first window can help us get to the windowsill of the window above it. That windowsill is close enough to the roof, which then takes us to the attic window. It sounds much more complicated in my head than it really is.

Delly takes the first few climbs and gets up with no difficulty. I follow behind her and find it to be a little more challenging but I make sure to be careful because I don't want to look like an idiot. Finally, we're both on the roof in front of the round window.

I take my knife out and stab at the wood. It falls apart like tissue paper, as if its been rotting for years. We both climb into the attic and find that there's no light. The two of us continuously bump into furniture, as if nothing has been moved around. Everything is just placed wherever in this attic, just like how every other attic in the world is. However, it's easy to find the door to the house because of the light streaming through the crack beneath the door. We walk down a few steps to the door, Delly opens it, taking the lead once more, and there's a short hallway and then an immediate right turn. We walk to the turn and find an open room with two adjacent walls filled with doors. Delly and I look through each of the rooms but find only beds and sheets. There are no weapons upstairs.

We take the staircase down. The steps lead down half way and then make a right. There's no way to see the downstairs from the staircase, as the staircase is lined with walls. Once downstairs, we find ourselves in yet another hallway. The downstairs is very basic. Looking left, you can see the two bottom windows at the front of the house account for two separate rooms next to the front door. Looking right, the hallway continues to a backdoor and a room at the left end. First, Delly and I make a trip to the room on the right of the front door. What we see is astonishing.

The walls of this room are lined up with weapons and supplies, all from the Cornucopia. There's hundreds of swords and bows and extra arrows, ropes and bags and food and even dynamite, all strewn across the room as if they were unimportant. Delly walks in and immediately grabs a new bow and adds some arrows to her quiver. I approach her quickly.

"No, wait, what are you doing?" I ask her, grabbing her arm so she can't take anymore. "They're gonna notice."

"Do you really think they count all of this?" she asks, gesturing the rest of the supplies in the room.

"I guess you're right." My voice softens when I realize I'm being annoying.

"Well go on. Take something for yourself."

I scan the room once more and find nothing. There's nothing I really want, anyway. I have my knife. But then I remember the throwing knives. Unless another tribute has them, I'm bound to find them here. I look around, stepping through piles of junk until I find them in the corner of the room.

Three clips of ten throwing knives each. They seem untouched and dusty, so I take all three of them. I have Delly help me attach them to my belt. Now, when I walk, all I can hear is the jingling of the throwing knives. The sound makes me feel protected, as if I have some advantage over the others finally. I'm no longer refined to one knife. I have many.

I stand tall and proud before I hear a noise that brings me back to my anxiety.

The Careers are coming back.

Not only can you hear them laughing and running around, but you can see their lanterns shining and shaking through the window.

I duck down and Delly follows suit out of instinct.

"They're coming back." I whisper to her. She points to the stairs.

I grab my bag and we both crawl out of the room and into the hall, where we take the stairs to the second floor. We go right to the hallway that leads to the attic and then we reach another problem.

"The door's locked." Delly whispers to me. I think about the situation and come up with a reply.

"It must be locked from this side." I say, staring straight ahead. No wonder the attic seemed to be untouched. They couldn't even get in there in the first place.

Delly looks at me and opens her mouth, about to say something, but then we hear the front door open with a click of the unlocking lock.

Immediately I hear a laugh that sends a pain in my chest. A girly, flirtatious laugh that I can only identify as Portia's.

"No, stop it! _Please_, you wouldn't do that!" she laughs, mid-conversation.

"Hey, you never know." Is the reply from Munstead. Portia laughs again. I want to snap her neck and rip out her stupid ponytail.

"Hey, Jaymes, go get us some food." Portia says a bit too loud. She's practically shouting.

"No, you know what guys, I'm tired." Jaymes says. He seems disconnected from their group even with this one sentence.

"Oh, come on, what are you? Two years old?" I hear from a fourth voice. It's presumably Teena. I don't remember her voice well enough connect it to the interviews, but since Jaymes is here it would only make sense Teena is too.

"_Shut up._" Jaymes says. He begins to audibly stomp up the stairs. The three other Careers downstairs boo him and then laugh hysterically. I can hear Jaymes slam his door shut when he gets upstairs.

Delly and I sit for a minute longer before Munstead suggests that they all go eat, and we hear the three tributes shuffle over to the back of the house and probably into the kitchen. Now's our chance.

"We have to go. _Now._" Delly says to me. Clearly she has the same idea.

We speed walk around the corner of the hallway and begin to tiptoe down the stairs. I look to the right at the bottom of the steps and can hear the other Careers laughing in the kitchen. They have no idea the two of us are even intruding in their house.

Delly and I turn left and reach for the door. Delly, on my left, twists and turns the knob, pushing and pulling the door.

"It won't budge." She whispers to me.

"It must lock from the inside too." I don't know how this could possibly work, locking from both the outside and the inside, but it does.

Before Delly can say another word to me, we are interrupted by a voice coming from the top of the stairs.

"What are you doing here?" Jaymes asks. He is genuinely confused. We stand there for a second, staring at each other, but I pull a fast one on him. I yank one of the thirty knives I have strung around my belt and I chuck it at him. With a lucky shot, the knife plants itself firmly in the middle of his forehead, and he slumps forward only to fall clumsily down the stairs. As his body hits the last few steps, I can just barely make out the sound of the canon booming outside.

Now everyone knows Delly and I are here.

Almost instantly, I hear the screeching of chair legs against the floor, and I see Portia, Munstead, and Teena appear at the opposite end of the hallway from the kitchen. We all stand in a moment of shock but then we quickly switch to action.

Munstead and Teena start to walk towards us, knives in their hands, but Portia grabs their shoulders.

"Stand in front of me." She says to them. Then, she pulls her bow off from her shoulder and lines up an arrow. Aiming between Munstead and Teena, she quickly releases the string and the arrow wisps past my face and lands with a thud in the wall next to me. I start to panic. I pull a knife off from my belt and chuck it at them. Teena jerks her head to the side and narrowly misses my knife, which also plants itself into the wall. Now, more bows are flying at Delly and me. I need to think fast. I take a short glance at the door and know what to do.

"Delly," I say, taking aim and throwing another knife. "Find something to break through the window on the door, quickly." She runs into the room on my right and stays there for a while. Portia and I consistently return arrows and knives, each missing each other by inches. Then, I score one.

It lands in Munstead's shoulder. He screams and pulls the knife out from his flesh. His shoulder immediately bleeds with no signs of stopping. He grabs it in pain and steps to the side and Portia yells at him.

"NO! Get back in front of me!" He obeys her. One second she's flirting with him, the next she's ordering him around.

I throw one more knife and then Delly comes back to me from the room, with a big flowerpot in her arms.

"Move, move, move, move, move." She tells me. I shift to my left and she swings the flowerpot at the window. The window shatters into a million pieces all around us. Portia releases another arrow and I swiftly throw another knife. I miss them, but it doesn't matter. Delly lifts my butt up as I climb through the broken window. Portia and her team keep their distance, but continue with the arrows. One just misses Delly.

Delly puts her hands in mine and begins to climb out the window. She barely has her left leg out before she screams in agony. The rest of her body falls on me, and as we collapse onto the wooden porch, I can see a long arrow sticking out of the right side of her stomach.

I hear Portia signal her group to begin advancing to us, so I get Delly together. She screams persistently and lies on the porch, but I usher her on.

"No, you're not gonna do this, we have to go _now_." I lift her up and look at Portia's face, which is staring at me right through the broken window. She struggles with her key to unlock the door rather than climbing through the window, so Delly and I get a head start at running. Delly groans loudly in pain and I get stern with her.

"Don't do that. Not now at least. Wait until we hide far away enough and then let it all out." She listens to me and shuts up. The arrow still sticks out of her, moving rhythmically with her body and muscles as we run. Soon enough, I begin to hear Portia and Teena screaming for us, threatening to kill us and slaughter us. I ignore their cries and practically drag Delly along with me until almost half an hour passes, and the Career's screams fade. The two of us seek refuge between some large boulders we come across.

Delly immediately cries. She cups her hands around the arrow that still sticks out of her stomach.

"Okay, let me see, let me see." I tell her. She shakily moves her hands away and I see how deep the arrow is in. I can guess about two inches just by looking at it. Portia can send a sharp arrow.

"Were gonna pull it out, okay?" I tell Delly. She shakes her head no but I shake mine yes.

"Here," I say, grabbing a branch from the ground. "Bite on this when I pull it out, on the count to three."

She looks at me with so much pain in her eyes. She's scared and truthfully I'm scared too. I'm afraid to hurt her but it's the only option. We can't just leave an arrow sticking out of her. I take a deep breath.

"Alright. Ready? One… two… THREE." I say and pull as hard as I can on 'three.'

Delly screams at the top of her lungs. I throw the arrow to the side and with my right hand I cup her mouth shut so her screams aren't audible, and with my left hand I cover her wound. I feel her warm, sticky blood pour all about my palm and I know it's serious. I start to shake and I see little bits of blood seep out from underneath my hand. I try to keep my stomach closed so I don't vomit. I'm not good with blood, so I'm already pushing my limits.

I remove my right hand from Delly's mouth and she sits there and cries. I look around for Delly's book bag with the medicines but I don't even see her bag at all.

As she gasps for air from the amount of crying she's done, I ask her a question.

"Where's your bag?"

She squeezes her eyes shut and more tears flow out. She begins to cry more.

"Still in their house." She manages to say. She must have left it. That would be okay had she not been severely injured. I almost want to blame her but I don't, because it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. I was lucky to remember my bag.

"Uh… that's okay, don't worry." I reassure her. But it's not okay. I have this doubt hovering in my mind of her survival. I want her to live so badly but an arrow punctured two inches into her stomach won't do her any justice. I remove the water I had in my book bag and pour it on her wound. She grits her teeth and takes a deep breath, trying hard to keep her voice down. Then, I pull out the blanket I had in my bag and tie it tightly around Delly. I hope that this will keep pressure on it and stop the bleeding, but I still have doubts of its success.

"We need to rest now, alright?" I tell her.

"Can you hold me?" she asks. There's something gross about holding someone with a gaping hole in his or her side, but then again she's only 12 and she's in pain.

"Of course."

As we lay down in the grass, the anthem starts blasting and the two of us jump at the same time. I've lost track of time, clearly. After the anthem, Jaymes's face is revealed. Then, nothing. The stars shine bright and the crickets chirp. Delly keeps up this constant shaking and I get afraid each time. Afraid of losing her. Afraid of losing it all.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 – Day 11 – 8 Tributes**

I wake up to the birds. Turning to my right, I see Delly, lying there, asleep. The air is stagnant. No wind. I can't feel any cold either. There's no cold yet there's no heat. It's a numbing air that I cannot choose whether it is cold or warm. I shift my weight forward and stand up in one swift movement. I look down at Delly again. She lies there with her eyes shut and she's curled up in a ball. Her knees tucked near her face and her arms folded between her legs. Deciding that it would be best if she rested, I walk around to find some breakfast.

Leaves crunch noisily with my steps but I have no discretion with them. My mind is still racing with thoughts about last night. I wonder about the Careers and what they're doing now. Probably sleeping.

Before long, I find a bird's nest. There's a bird in it, so I hit it with one of my knives. When it reels back and falls from the branch, its nest falls with it. In it I find three eggs. At first I feel bad for ruining the bird's chance at becoming a parent, but I quickly shake the thought and carry the eggs towards where Delly was sleeping. I spend an hour making a fire, and then I cook the eggs over the thinnest and largest rock I can find. This way, the eggs cook faster. At the same time, I pluck and cook the bird. Finally, I come up with a pretty fine breakfast, which I divide on two rocks and bring to Delly.

Delly still lies in her ball, motionless.

"Delly," I say to her, putting the two makeshift plates of breakfast on the ground. "Come on, it's time to get up."

I get no response.

"Delly." I say to her, a little louder. I give her a shake. Something is wrong.

When I shake Delly, her body moves a bit too much. From the past few days I've known her, I know she's not a heavy sleeper. Perhaps her body is limp because she's unconscious from her wounds. Or maybe she's dead.

This is where I start to panic. My heart rate goes up dramatically, and it hurts.

"Delly?" I ask her. No answer. I shake her a few times. No sign of movement.

"Delly, stop, this isn't funny." I say, my voice shaking. Tears form in my eyes and I wipe them away.

"Delly…" I give her a bit more of a shake.

"Delly!" I shake her wildly. Her head jolts from left to right and her arms shift around. I drop her and her body lands with a thud. Looking closely, I can see the blanket I wrapped around her is soaked with blood and there's some dried blood on her shirt. She must've bled out in the night.

I'm wheezing and hyperventilating and crying. I fall backwards and crawl a few feet back. I sit there, in shock, tears flowing down. She's dead; she's gone.

I sit there, sniffing and looking around, as if people are watching but nobody's doing anything. Well, they are. Everyone is watching me. I cry and hold a dead girl in my arms and they just watch. It's unbearable.

I stop myself from crying quickly. I stand up, grab my book bag, and walk away in the opposite direction. I don't know where I'm going but I want to get out of here. After an hour I realize I've left my breakfast over by Delly. I make a good decision not to go back.

I don't take any breaks. I keep a consistent half walk, half run as far as I can go. I'm breathing heavily and sniffing constantly. Tears blind my vision but I just brush them away and rub my eyes and keep going. I almost feel like getting further away from Delly's body will help me get better but it doesn't. The further I go the worse I feel.

Countless thoughts race through my mind. _Why me? Why Delly? Is it worth trying anymore? I'm alone and afraid. I should die. I deserve to die. I couldn't even keep her alive._

With one last sniff I push through a few thin trees and find myself at the border of the arena once more. I can see the land fall only thirty feet in front of me. The rest is distant mountains and forests that cannot be reached.

I quietly step towards the cliff and wind blows my hair to the left. I look down and see the drop. Hundreds of feet straight down to that barrier. That barrier that zaps things. I imagine what it would be like to take my life now, give up. A quick fall and then a painless, split-second end. It would take no time at all. I dangle my foot from the cliff and lean forward the slightest bit, testing myself. But, as soon as I get close to falling I back up and then sit down to balance myself. Clearly I'm not ready to die just yet.

I sit along the cliff with my feet crossed and I stare out for a while. I don't know how much time passes, but I sit there thinking about Delly. It doesn't feel right that she's gone. I don't want her to be gone. She has to come back. She just has to.

But then, realistically, no she can't. She's gone. I have to accept it.

My tears begin to fade and my nose clears.

I don't want to be done crying yet, though. I still have feelings to let out. There's an immense amount of tension I need to release.

Looking to my side I see my clip of knives. Without a second thought, I grab one and just throw it over the cliff, screaming. It flies forward and then catches the barrier, zapping it's way to a few sparks. I do the same with four more knives but then stop. I count how many I have left. 14. I should save them.

I remain by the cliff for another hour to cool down, to let my mind run at 100 miles per hour until I can finally get back up again and continue with no distractions. I decide my main goal should be finding Billee. He's my last hope.

As the sun starts to reach it's setting point, I get up and go back into the forest. The trees are thick and numerous, as are the hills and different types of terrain. It's the most confusing part of the forest I've seen thus far. It seems so easy to get lost in this area. I keep walking straight, though. If I hope to get out, I shouldn't try and confuse my way. Straight is as good enough as anything.

The sun forces a red and pink light through the trees that shines in my eyes when there's a clearing in the tree's leaves. I find it hard to see but slowly the sun starts to fade and the sky turns a pale blue. The forest grows darker and I'm still not out of this thick part.

My mind is still on Delly when I hear footsteps behind me.

I turn around quickly to find nothing and no more footsteps. I decide to continue cautiously.

I only make it a few more steps before I hear the familiar footsteps behind me. I turn around quicker this time but still find no one.

I continue walking with my head turned to the right slightly, trying to see if I can catch someone following me. Maybe it's just my imagination, though.

When I hear them again I whip my head around to catch a glimpse of Teena's face before she knocks me to the ground. I land with a grunt and start to try and fight her but she's too big. I can't get her off of me and she unclips the ring of throwing knives off my belt and puts them by my feet where I can't reach them. She's got me down. I'm about to die.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" she whispers to me, a smile wide on her face. "Oh, come on, Atala, don't try and fight me."

I'm surprised to find myself actually give up and stop struggling. She keeps a good eye on me to make sure I don't make a sudden move.

"Here's how my game works." She says to me like I can't understand her. "You take one of mine, I take one of yours. It just so happens that you're that _one_."

I understand that she's talking about district tributes. I took Jaymes, so she's going to take me.

She raises her knife and is about to swing down before someone knocks her off me. As soon this mysterious tribute knocks Teena off of me, I sit up and grab my clip of knives. Then, I look over to Teena and the other tribute. They lay a few feet away fighting ferociously. The other tribute is winning, though. Teena keeps screaming and yelping, trying to get herself to overcome this tribute's strength, but she can't. Then, with the small amount of light that remains in the forest, I can see the tribute raise a long knife and stab Teena repeatedly until she shows no sign of movement. I sit there in a state of shock for a moment. Suddenly, the tribute turns towards me with their knife raised. I'm about to run but then I see the silvery "5" shining on his jacket shoulder.

It's Billee.

"Billee?" I ask.

"Atala?" is my response.

I get up and so does he, and we run towards each other and then hug. We just hug and hold onto each other as tightly as we can. I'm crying into his shoulder and with a muffled voice I tell him.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I—" I begin to breathe hectically, trying to catch my breath and he rubs my back and says to me in a hushed voice.

"Shhh, sh, sh, sh, sh, it's okay, it's okay. You're all right. Shh."

I manage to retain a normal breathing pattern and I look up at him.

"I shouldn't have left you."

"Atala, any reasonable person would have left me."

We hug silently and after a minute or so I break the moment.

"Where have you been all this time?"

"Wanna see?"

I nod my head and then grab my belongings. He takes me back from the direction he knocked Teena over and we walk for a good mile. Then, we approach a large set of bushes.

"What's this?" I ask him.

"Look," he starts and then pushes some of the branches of the bush to the side. Within the bush is a large open space, almost like a cave. The room is lit with a small lantern that wasn't visible from outside, and there are scattered supplies all along the floor. "This is where I live." He says to me.

I crawl in with my mouth wide open, astonished at the living he's made in the past eleven days. I can see he has an array of flashy knives and a ton of food.

"Where did you even get all of this?"

"At Cornucopia. While the Careers made trips with supplies back and forth from the Cornucopia to their house, I was able sneak over a few times and steal some things. I mean, I know it's kinda stupid that I've just been hiding this whole time, but it's kept me safe up to this point." It's not stupid though, it's much smarter than what I've been doing. He hasn't had to endure even half of the things I've had to.

Before I can tell him that what he's been doing is smart, he shows me something.

"And look what I've got." He opens his left hand and sitting in his palm is a lighter. Its body is a thick, black material that feels like leather. The cap is shiny silver and engraved on the body of the lighter is a Capitol symbol in the same, shiny silver as the cap. I grab the lighter from his hand and inspect it as if it isn't real.

"Where the hell did you get this?" I ask him.

"I think one of the Careers dropped it." He says to me. "I found it in the grass a few days ago."

I think about how perfect this could be for fire but then I realize something.

"Billee, they never put lighters in the Games."

"So?"

"So it has to have some use, something other than fire. There has to be something in this arena that need quick lighting."

Billee shrugs his shoulders and looks at me like I'm crazy, but I know something's up with this lighter. I roll it around in my hand and hold it with my thumb, pointer, and middle finger. Then it hits me.

"The dynamite. The dynamite, Billee, the dynamite!"

"What are you talking about?"

I tell him the story about how I snuck into the Career house and stole a few things but I exclude Delly from the whole thing so he doesn't ask about her. I tell him about the sticks of dynamite that just laid there on the floor.

"So we have an advantage over them," he says to me. "And we have to use that advantage before it's too late." We sit there in silence for another minute. Then, Billee begins to talk once more.

"Tomorrow we go to their house when they're out. You'll go in and if they start to come back, I'll stay outside and distract them. While you're inside, though, you're gonna plant as many of those sticks of dynamite throughout the house to blow it up. If we can get rid of their supplies it'll be much easier to get rid of them in the end."

His plan seems faulty, but it's a start.

"I guess that could work."

"Alright." He says. "Now, get some sleep so you aren't passing out while lighting dynamite tomorrow."

I laugh because I can't tell if he was trying to make a joke out of the circumstance or not. He pulls a blanket from the side of the room and gives it to me. When he finally falls asleep, I inch towards him a little at a time because it makes me feel so much safer.

I fall asleep with my back against his, wrapped tightly in my blanket.

I don't even wake up for the anthem.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 – Day 12 – 6 Tributes**

When I wake up, Billee has prepared breakfast for me. Some berries and stale bread that I assume he had from when the Careers were moving the Cornucopia stuff. I eat it quickly and we gather up our things, the lighter included. We don't talk in the process.

There are times throughout the morning when I question Billee's fidelity. After all, I did leave him to die at the Bloodbath. What reason does he have to forgive me? It's so late in the game to start bringing in an ally, even if they're from the same district. Why now? Did it have to do with the circumstances? He could have killed me easily when we ran into each other yesterday. Is he playing me off? Is he using me as an advantage to help kill Portia and Munstead only to kill me later? My only options are to trust him now and see where we take things, or to not trust him, and perhaps even kill him while I still have the chance. I keep these thoughts consistently revolving across my mind. He has no reason to be nice to me; he owes me nothing. I don't know what kind of trick he could be trying to play, though.

"Atala." he says, breaking my anxiety.

"Yeah?"

"You ready?"

"Yeah." He's looking at me like I'm crazy. I look down and see my right thumb's cuticle is bleeding. I must have been picking at my fingers while thinking.

"Here," he reaches into his forest green book bag and hands me a small, round container the size of a quarter.

"Don't use a lot," he warns me. "A little can go a long way."

I look at the container and twist open its cap. Inside is a dab of thick, white cream. I look back up at Billee.

"It closes wounds." He informs me.

I stick my pointer finger in the container and manage to get the slightest bit of it. I look up at him one more time for reassurance and he nods his head. I rub what seems like nothing on my thumb and after a few seconds the bleeding stops.

"Good?" he asks. I toss the container back at him.

"Yeah."

As we stand up to leave, Billee takes his nylon jacket off and tosses it on the ground.

"Aren't you gonna need that?" I ask him.

"No, it's gotta be like 80 degrees out."

And, sure enough, when we step outside of his little house and into the woods, it's hot out. I still have my jacket on, but I decide not to go leave it back in the shelter. For some reason I feel like if I did go back in to take it off, Billee would either judge me or decide to sneak up on me and stab me, so I ultimately choose to leave it on.

Billee leads and we walk in the recognizable direction of the house. We walk slow, though. Slow enough for the four-mile walk to take two hours.

By the time we reach the house, the sun is high in the sky. It's about noontime, and we hide behind one of the boulders near the house. The front porch is in clear sight. I can see they've covered up the shattered front door window with boards of wood, all nailed up on top of another. We're about forty yards southwest of the house. Billee sits down with his back against the rock but I can't help but look over the boulder constantly to check if the Careers are coming.

At one point, the Careers do leave the house from the back door, out for hunting or gathering or whatever they feel like doing. Now's our chance.

"Here's the deal." Billee says. "You're going to run into the house and set three or four sticks of dynamite, all in different rooms on the lower level of the house. That way, if they do blow up a lot, they'll damage the lower level and the upper level might cave in. Kill-two-birds-with-one-stone kind of a thing, right?"

I completely disagree with his plan. Why is he making the girl go into the house? Is this his way of revenge, his way of getting me killed? I want to refuse his idea, tell _him_ to go in there. I don't know a way to ask him, though. Then, I think of it.

"How will I even get in there quick enough?"

"You told me you knew a way to climb up and get in through the attic."

"Yeah but that's not quick."

"So go through the front door."

"It's locked, you idiot."

"Use this, then." He reaches into his bag and takes out a crowbar sort of device.

"And do what?"

"Break the planks of wood covering the door's window. Or just use it to break the door's lock, I don't know."

"And what are you gonna do to make this plan foolproof?"

"I'm gonna keep watch."

I still don't agree with his plan, but I adhere to it anyway. He gives me the sleek lighter and I peer over the rock and wait until the Careers are no longer visible through the trees. Then, I run for it.

When I make it to the front door, I try and shove the crowbar between the wood planks in the window and it doesn't quite work, so I shimmy it between the door and the doorframe and then push the crowbar to the right. Within seconds the lock splits and the door is thrust open. I walk with a heavy stride through the front hallway and hang a left into the room of weapons and supplies. There, I look around for a second, forgetting where the sticks of dynamite were, and then I find them. They're all colored black with gold and silver strings. One foot long each. I take about ten of them and lay three of them in the middle of the room. All of their strings are about the same length but I compare them anyway and choose the longest one. Then, I look at the label on the dynamite, which is written in white.

DYNAMITE. APPX. 4 MINUTES OF STRING.

I have four minutes to light all of them. This should be easy.

I light the one stick of dynamite (the others should blow up with the explosion of the first) and head to the room across the hallway where Delly found the flowerpot. The room is completely empty besides a few rugs and a bookshelf. I place three more sticks of dynamite in the middle of the floor and quickly light one of them without checking to see which had the longest string. Then, I head down the hallway to the kitchen and lay the last four down and light one of them. I have about two minutes to get out and as far away as possible. I stand up and head out of the kitchen and when I begin to walk down the hallway, I hear the back door open behind me. I turn around and find Portia and Munstead standing there side by side. Munstead is holding a tight grip on a long sword that I know could tear me to shreds.

"What are you doing here?" Munstead asks.

"I…. I…" I can't spit out the right words.

"Kill her." Munstead says to Portia. She swiftly pulls an arrow and readies it in her bow. I don't want to die so I spit out whatever I can.

"I PLANTED DYNAMITE THROUGHOUT THE HOUSE!" I scream at the two of them. Portia lowers her bow slightly and then Munstead yells at her.

"Get out!"

"But—"

"Hurry up and get out!" he shouts at her, his voice resonating through the house. She shuffles quickly and runs out the back door. I see her sprinting away from the house for a second before Munstead's huge body covers the backdoor window. He stomps towards me quickly and I do nothing to try and escape. He grabs me by the hair and puts his face inches away from mine.

"WHERE IS IT ALL!?" he roars at me.

"It's here, it's over here!" I scream, starting to cry. I point over to the front of the house and he drags me to the hallway space between the two front rooms.

"Which room is it?" he asks. Clearly he could just look into the rooms and figure it out, but I guess he wants to be more intimidating.

"They're—"

Before I can continue, the dynamite in the room to the right explodes and Munstead and I are thrown into the room on our left. Then, another deafening explosion and I blank out.

I wake up in complete darkness. Either there's nothing to hear or I can't hear at all. I'm definitely alive, though, because I can smell burning wood and flesh.

There's nothing to see. Something is impaling my arm and I know it's bleeding a lot.

I need to get out fast.

But how?

I try moving but it's no use.

I'm going to die like this.

Then, light. I begin to hear the muffled sound of wood moving, things shuffling. My eyes are blinded by the ever-growing light above me. The weight of debris on my chest becomes lighter.

"Atala?" I hear in a muffled voice. Billee's voice.

I can't speak but I guess he knows it's me. More wood comes off my body. Finally, the plank that's crushing my arm. Billee is standing right over me. He lifts me up and pulls me out of what I can see is a huge pile of debris, all charred and smoking. The explosion caused a lot more damage to the house than we had anticipated. Nothing really stood from the house except the foundation, some of the front porch, and two of the walls. The rest, all of it, gone to rubble.

While I still can't hear so well, I can see perfectly. Billee carries me through the woods and back to his little cave hut thing. He lays me down on his jacket that he left there earlier and takes out the healing solution from his bag. He rubs it all over my right arm, which I can now see is purple, nearing black, and split at my bicep. Blood. Tons and tons of blood.

Then, I black out.

When I wake, its dark. I look over at my right arm and it's scarred but no longer open and bleeding. It has a pale tinge to it but its no longer bruised purple. Whatever Billee had in his bag saved me.

I look to my left and see Billee sitting there, his legs folded and his hands resting on his lap. He smiles at me.

"Finally back to normal?"

I nod my head yes and try to sit up. He cautions me "no" and jumps forward to bring me gently back to the ground. As I lie there once more, he says to me:

"You have to get your rest. You want to be ready for tomorrow. I'm sure by now everyone knows around where we are, so we have to be ready to move. Munstead's dead, by the way. They just showed it after the anthem but I figured he was anyway."

My only response to him is:

"Why didn't you distract them after you saw them coming towards the house so I could escape?"

A simple question he has no answer to.

"I'm sorry, I—" he begins to say after a moment of thinking.

"No. You wanted me to die. You saw it as a quick way to get rid of three people. 'Kill two birds with one stone.'" I say, mocking him.

"That's not what happened, Atala."

"Bull shit." I say to him. I turn and lay on my right side so I face away from him. Nothing he can say will change my opinion. It was obvious. He was ready to let me go.

"You know what, you're right. I was trying to get you killed." This makes me look over at him again.

"Well, not initially," he continues. "I wanted to get rid of the Careers but when I saw the opportunity for you to die I thought I'd take it. I _really_ don't want it to come down to the two of us, Atala. I was glad you ditched me at the Cornucopia. I thought it was better that we lose sight of each other before it becomes emotionally stressful. But I couldn't handle it. That's why I started looking for you in that burning rubble. Because I care about you, Atala."

I accept what he's told me without fully understanding. It might be the fact that I'm drowsy and recovering from an explosion, but I sort of understand what he means. If I were in his situation, would I have done the same? I can't make a definite opinion because my mind is already plagued with too many other thoughts. The two of us sit in silence for a little while longer.

"What do we do tomorrow?" I ask him.

"I don't know." He sounds sad, ashamed of his decisions today.

I somewhat forgive him but I don't tell him. I want him to feel bad for almost letting me get killed.

I turn to my right side again and pretend I've fallen asleep when really I lie awake the whole night and think about what I should do about Billee.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 – Day 13 – 5 Tributes**

I end up doing nothing about Billee. No matter what situation I think of in my head, I can't find one without any flaws. If I kill him I'll be guilty about it my whole life. If I stay with him, he might kill me.

I also want to say that we should split up, go our separate ways, but I can't help but feel that without an ally I could die.

I've had too many close calls already.

Today is a slow day. Billee and I do nothing but sit in the ditch. We eat berries and just stay in silence. The two of us are captivated by our own thoughts, eager to be the first one to figure out something to do. At one point, Billee stands up.

"I'm going hunting." Is all he says. He grabs a spear from the left side of the ditch and crawls out through the bushes and into the sunlight.

The air is dry today. It's warm but the wind is freezing. I can even feel it from within the ditch. Constant breezes reach me in my solitude. I'm ready to go home. I'm ready for this to be done. It's been thirteen days of me suffering the worst things in life, and nobody cares. It's entertainment. It's cruelty.

I've never even gotten a sponsor this whole time.

For the second time, I consider suicide.

The barrier is not too far from here. I can slip out while Billee is gone. He might be a little upset, but what does he care? It's one less person he has to deal with.

I remember that by this point they should have done the family interviews back at home. Usually when eight tributes are left, the interviews are televised throughout the twelve districts and the Capitol. I soon realize that Delly's parents had to have been interviewed. Or, at least, been awaiting an interview before Delly died. I can't imagine what they must be going through.

As I remain seated, my mind returns to the thought of suicide. I would rather die on my own whim than from the wound of someone else. The barrier would be quick and effortless. One second of thought and then boom, you're dead. No going back, no final words. I would rather that than be stabbed to death.

I wonder if the Gamemakers have considered bringing in another event. They usually create a Feast back at the Cornucopia when there's four or five tributes left. They haven't said anything yet, but it's about time they—

My thoughts are stopped when I hear the canon boom.

It must have been Billee.

It had to have been Billee.

He's dead; I've lost him.

I was wrong. Losing him was not going to be easy. I thought it would be quick and painless and just something I would have to deal with, but it's not. It's the complete opposite.

But then I hear sprinting footsteps nearing the ditch.

His killer is coming for me now. I'm done for.

Someone rips through the bushes and into the ditch.

It's Billee.

I jump up and begin to cry out of nowhere. He holds me in his arms and I cry into his shoulder.

"Don't do that to me, don't ever do that to me again. I thought it was you."

"No I thought you had wandered off, gotten yourself killed by Portia. I came back as soon as I heard the canon."

I look into Billee's green eyes, which are wet with tears of his own. For some reason, I have the urge to kiss him. Hours ago I was plotting to ditch him and now I want to kiss him. I don't know what's come over me.

But, I keep my lips to myself.

I don't kiss him.

We do hug again, though.

The rest of the day is us sitting more, but this time talking a little here and there. We talk about our families, our lives back in District 5. I tell him about Annie and how close the two of us are.

We share a few laughs and by the time we've run out of things to say it's dark.

I lie down in the same position I did the night before, but Billee does not.

This time he lies right beside me.

After an hour or so once when he thinks I'm asleep, he even puts his arm over me.

I smile and stay up until the anthem. Billee falls asleep before then, but I can see through the bushes that the District 6 boy died. When I try to think about how he died I immediately think it was Portia. She's on the loose and killing now, apparently.

I mean, it could have been something else. Maybe another tribute killed him. Maybe he starved or got sick. Maybe he fell out of a tree or off a cliff.

But deep down, my gut tells me it was Portia.

It always seems to be Portia.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 – Day 14 – 4 Tributes**

When I wake up, Billee is running around the shelter and collecting things in a book bag, as if he's ready to leave. I sit up from where I was sleeping and ask Billee what he's doing.

"Packing you up." He says to me. I'm confused.

"Why?" I ask.

"Atala, there's only four of us left, we can't risk being together in the end."

I consider what he's telling me and I guess he's right. But, I don't want to go. I don't want to leave him. I don't want this to be goodbye.

"There has to be something we can do." I think aloud. He looks at me as if I'm speaking gibberish.

"No." he says plainly. "You have to go. Now's our one chance to…"

"To what?"

"You just have to go, okay?"

No, I'm not okay.

"Alright."

He hands me the book bag he's been collecting and I take a peek inside to see what he's given me. Billee's literally split all of our supplies in two. Half for him and half for me.

Our goodbyes are awkward. I hug him and he hugs me and we look at each other for a split second before parting. As I begin to ascend into the woods, he follows me.

"Why are you following me?" I ask him.

"Well I just thought it wouldn't be fair if I got to keep the shelter."

"I survived more days without this place than with it. It's fine, you keep stay here." I say. I tell him this partially so I don't lose him entirely. If I'm breaking down I'll always know where he is.

Billee shrugs his shoulders and tosses his book bag back into the shelter. It lands right next to his jacket, which he still isn't wearing. Before I go, he gives me one last hug, this one tighter than the one before.

I go on my way without giving him a final glance.

After fifteen minutes of walking, I settle down against a tree. I'm not going to try and get too far away from him. I've lost him once and I'm not losing him again, not even this far in the games.

I eat a little bit of dried berries and drink some of my water. Then, I sit. I watch the birds fly from tree to tree. I remember how they tore apart Jack. The memory is still vivid in my head. I think of the arrow in Delly's stomach. I remind myself of the pain she suffered, and how I could do nothing to help her. I remember waking up the next morning and thinking she was asleep when she was actually dead. I think of the kids at the Bloodbath; that girl at the very start of the games who was killed by Munstead. Twenty of them, dead within eleven days, and I've witnessed eight of them die.

And their deaths weren't just at the expense of other tributes. I am the culprit of some of these deaths. I've been the reason behind four canon booms. I have a death count. I am a murderer.

The tears start to flow. I want to be home. I want to be with my mom and Annie.

I sniff and breathe hard. I don't want to cry. I need to, but I don't want to.

There's something so wrong about this. The Hunger Games aren't a form of punishment. They aren't fair. They're humiliating and damaging. Children who weren't alive during the Dark Days don't deserve punishment. We haven't done anything wrong. There isn't anything we owe.

I'm about to cry even more about the fact that I'll die in the upcoming days when I hear a scream. A scream that, although I've never heard before, I can immediately recognize.

It's Billee's.

The scream echoes through the trees and some birds fly away from their branches. Then, silence.

Then, another scream.

I pick up my things and begin sprinting in the direction of the scream. He keeps shouting for help, he sounds like he's hurt or worse.

I trip over branches and stones and eventually push through a few thin trees into a clearing that I know immediately is the clearing before the cliff and the rest of the barrier. There in plain sight, struggling with another tribute, is Billee. The other tribute, which I presume is a guy from his build, has Billee pinned to the ground and is throwing punches directly at his face. He's literally sitting on Billee's chest. They're both dangerously close to the cliff.

My first instinct is to run at the other tribute. I sprint as fast as I can towards him and as I jump on his back I see a reflective "3" on his shoulder.

"GET OFF HIM!" I scream, my arms locked on his shoulders and legs wrapped around his stomach like he's giving me a piggyback ride.

However, this tribute is massive. He instantly throws me off his back and I land on my side on the ground. At this point I remember the tribute's name is Cog.

I start to stand up and Cog starts to make this shimmy maneuver, forcing Billee closer and closer to the edge of the cliff while still on top of him. By the time I catch my balance, Cog has already got Billee's head hanging off the cliff. My hand brushes against something on my hip. I look down and see my throwing knives. Of course! How could I forget about them?

After a split second of feeling completely stupid, I take one of my 14 remaining knives and make my move.

I position the knife with the blade in my hand, aim at Cog's head, and throw as hard as I can from only about ten feet away.

It plants itself firmly in the back of his skull.

He breathes sharply and then struggles with his breaths, wheezing for a second or two. Billee gently pushes Cog's body back and he falls swiftly off the edge of the cliff. I hear a long and exaggerated zap followed by the boom of the canon.

Billee sits up and looks directly at me. I jog to him and hold my hand out to help him up.

"Are you alright?" I ask him. His nose is bleeding and his lip has a huge cut. There's also a red and purple mark above his right eyebrow.

Billee accepts my help but as soon as he stands up, he pushes by me and starts to walk away.

"Where are you going?" I question him. My voice is stern but cracks at the same time.

"You followed me, didn't you?" he asks. That's not the answer I was expecting.

"No, I just wanted to stay close—"

"Don't you even remember why we left each other in the first place?" He grits his teeth with each word he says.

"Why are you mad at me?" I respond in desperation.

"Come on, Atala, answer my damn question." He's not screaming at me but his voice is booming.

"Because we wanted to make sure it wasn't just us." My voice cracks again. I have tears forming in my eyes.

"So why would you think it's okay to come and help me?" His voice is still loud.

"Billee that's not fair." I say to him, getting louder as I start to cry more. "You know I couldn't just leave you."

"No, Atala, but you could have. You could have easily said 'no' and walked away."

"BILLEE, NO I COULDN'T HAVE!" I scream at him. My face is burning with redness. I can taste my salty tears, which are flowing down my face like rain trickling down a window.

He waits for a moment before his next response.

"Atala, I don't want it to be the two of us." He tells me in a hushed voice.

"I know." I reply, lowering my voice to his level.

"Atala, I'm gonna walk—" he swallows hard and continues. "—back into the woods and you're gonna wait here for ten minutes before you even consider coming to find me." His voice is just as shaky as mine. He's upset.

"Billee," I start, beginning to cry even more. He ignores me and starts to walk back to the forest.

"BILLEE!" I yell at him. My face is red again and my tears are spread all along my eyelid because I keep blinking before they have the chance to fall down my cheek.

He turns around and looks at me.

"Please don't go." I beg him. My words are cut by my breathing and sniffling. "I don't wanna lose you just yet. Please."

He turns around and disappears into the woods.

I fall to my knees and start screaming and crying like a five year old.

I'm in the same position as I was with Delly's death. My mind is tormented with loss and I struggle to keep control of myself. My emotions block my mentality and I can't think straight. There's too much pain.

What's stopping me from following him? His rules were verbal. There are no real consequences to chasing after him right now. So why do I follow his waiting rule? I don't know. Maybe it's out of respect for him. I don't know.

I break the ten minutes short after I count to six minutes. I pick up my book bag that dropped during the fight and run through the trees.

I'm running like a mad woman, calling his name frantically. Nobody responds. Nobody hears.

I'm risking my chances of getting caught by Portia but I don't care anymore. Let me die. I don't need to live anymore.

I take sharp turns and run through areas I don't know. I start to lose myself in the thick of the trees. I have no sense of direction except for the setting sun.

After a long time I sit down against a tree and gulp down some of my water. I cry for a little while, too. There are too many thoughts and ideas running through my head. I have no time to plan for the upcoming days or think strategy. I can only think of Billee and him leaving me so coldly. Or was it coldly? Was it really the only way he could leave? Could he have been kinder and left on good terms?

Then, I start to go crazy.

I don't know why and I don't know how, but piercing black birds with white crests flock onto the branches of the trees around me. Hundreds of them all sit and stare at me. But these aren't the same birds that tore apart Jack. These birds are different. These are Jabberjays.

Government-created birds. Birds that can repeat anything and everything they hear.

They start to replay my conversation with Billee.

_"Why are you mad at me?"_

_ "No, I just wanted to stay close—"_

_ "Please don't go."_

_ "BILLEE, NO I COULDN'T HAVE!"_

All distorted and tampered versions of my cries, my words. They scream at me, a select hundred of these birds.

The rest of them replay my calls to Billee as I searched for him in the woods.

I clench my jaw and squeeze my teeth together. I cover my ears with my hands but I can still hear them. They're too loud.

I start to scream at the top of my lungs and cry for help. Cry for my mom, for Annie, for Siarrah, for Garry, for Miranda, for anyone.

Nobody comes to save me.

I'm alone.

And psychotic.

I stand up and throw my knives at them. I hit each of them and never miss. I use nine of my knives, hoping to kill a few and scare them away. They don't leave though. As the sky starts to turn black with night I pick up my belongings and stumble far away. The anthem starts to play and I can still hear the birds mocking me. I want to die. I see Cog's face in the sky. I still want to die.

I pass out some time later, concealing myself in a bush with red berries.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 21 – Day 15 – 3 Tributes**

I wake up with a strong smell of fruit in my nose. The berries emit a beautiful aroma, something so soothing. Birds are chirping like usual, and the air dry and cold. Sharp gusts of wind rip through the trees that surround me and cut at my nylon jacket. I wonder how Billee is dealing with this, considering he never uses his jacket.

It takes a while for me to actually get up. I sit there in that berry bush for hours, enjoying the smell of the delicate fruit. It's the most relaxed I've been so far.

But then my mind decides to bring up Billee.

What if he's right? What if we do end up as the final two? He's strong enough to kill Portia, and he definitely has the intelligence to outwit her. If there's anything stopping him from killing her it's me. But not even physically, just mentally. Will he kill her and then kill me? I'm not sure.

My head hurts.

My eyes hurt.

My arms are sore.

My legs ache.

I have no will to continue. While the end is so close, everything seems so far. I feel as if nobody will ever die. The three of us will be stuck at this standstill for weeks and none of us will ever die. I don't see myself making it much further. Why do I even bother hiding anymore?

With this thought, I find the strength to stand up. I stretch my legs and reach my arms up high. Then, I walk, as usual. I step on branches and stomp around with all my weight. I don't want to hide because I want to die. I'm asking for someone to come and kill me. Why would my family even care if I came home? My own father hates me. I'd hate to be so melodramatic, but I feel as if my homecoming wouldn't be as much of a wonderful thing as Billee's.

Fast forward a few hours and I'm still trying to be as loud as possible. But, with only three tributes left in this whole giant arena, it's not likely that anyone's close enough to hear me. So, I sit down and look at the food Billee packed me when he was preparing my bag for my departure. Inside are three filled water bottles, bandages, a small paper bag of dried meat, four crackers, and a container with berries. I eat the crackers and some of the fruit. Maybe if I pour out all of my water, I'll dehydrate myself to death.

Right now, it seems like a good idea.

As I sit there and contemplate the ways I could kill myself, day becomes night. I find myself in the dark quickly. The stars barely light up the forest. I can hardly see inches in front of me.

"Tomorrow." I tell myself. Tomorrow will be the day I kill myself. I'm not quite sure how yet. I'm terrified of the idea of throwing myself off a cliff into an electric barrier, but it may be my only option.

I put my things together in my book bag and use it as a pillow. I lie on my back and watch the few stars I can see. Then, the Capitol symbol pops up and I jump. The anthem plays and shows no one. If nobody dies soon, the Gamemakers will pull another one of their stunts to get us to die. Being that it's been over two weeks with us in the arena, I'm sure the Capitol citizens are nearly bored to death. I wonder if any of them are betting on me. With how I'm looking now, I'm sure nobody is. I'm probably the laughing stock. The one that people look at and say "Oh yeah my bet is on Atala" and then everyone laughs.

I close my eyes and find myself in a place not much darker than the world around me.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 22 – Day 16 – 3 Tributes**

My eyes open but they want to close again. I've gotten no sleep practically. My soreness hasn't gone away and I'm thirsty.

I sit up and drink what's left of my water. The water is warm and tastes metallic from the aluminum the bottle is made of. I put the bottle back in its place in my book bag even though I know I won't use it again. Today is the day I will die. I have no capability of killing Billee. He's too close to my heart and even if he tried to kill me without a second thought, I would sit there defenselessly and let it happen. But then that would take an emotional toll on him, and I don't want that to happen either.

I also have no chance against Portia, so I might as well die now.

I wonder how I'll kill myself.

I have my throwing knives, but I don't think I can stab myself. It leaves too much room for error. I might stab myself and create a near fatal wound. I need to know that I'll die.

I stand up and begin to walk, contemplating my other options for death while birds squawk and chirp in the branches above me. The trees begin to thicken and the ground starts to become more uneven with each of my steps. This landscape is familiar to me, but I don't know what from. But then, as I walk through a clearing in the trees I realize how I remember it all.

In front of me is an immense pile of charred wood, bricks, and cloth.

It's the Career house from a few days back.

I walk up to what's left of the house and touch a piece of the black wood cautiously, as if it's still hot. But it's cold and wet with morning dew. However, my fingertips still catch ash and soot on them. I wipe off what I can of the black dust on my pants but it doesn't go away. A constant reminder of my past and present.

Then, I realize I know the way back to Billee's ditch.

I keep a fast pace, easily recognizing the path we took to get to the house in the first place. Then, I see the bush that concealed the front entry.

I push it to the right, letting its leaves brush at my hand. I peer inside and Billee's jacket is lying on the ground. He's out hunting.

I wait for a moment, still looking at his rumpled jacket while I hold the bush to the side. Then I try to think about my purpose of being here. I'm supposed to be killing myself. I should be forgetting about Billee, Instead, I went right to him. I let the bush swing back and I turn on my heel, ready to leave. Then I consider the fact that Billee might have rope.

I rush into the ditch and look around Billee's supplies, knocking cans over and pushing bags aside. Then, I find it: a pile of about twenty feet of rope. I shove it in my book bag and zip it halfway, leaving the other half open so the rope can hang out a little since it doesn't fit. I walk back towards the Career house in search of thicker trees with thicker branches. When I find a good one, I cut the rope down to about 12 feet so my feet don't reach the ground. I tie a noose on the end of the rope, remembering how to from when Annie and I were younger. We used to play with dolls and pretend one of them was in danger by a bunch of villains who were about to hang her. All the other dolls would come to her rescue and one would cut the hanging doll free while the others fought off the villains. I laugh a little at the thought of us being so young and so unafraid. Annie and I were so close. It's a shame I won't ever see her again.

I toss the plain end of the rope over the lowest branch of the tree and climb up to tie it securely. The noose hangs about eight feet from the ground, so I have to find something to stand on while I put my neck head through the loop.

As I search around for a log or something, I think about what I'm about to do. While I have no second thoughts about killing myself, I realize my family will be watching me as I commit suicide. My cousins and aunts and uncles. My grandparents. My mom. My dad (maybe). Annie. They'll all watch as I struggle for air, as I kick and wheeze but slowly stop all movement. They'll see my body swing with my last twitches and movements and slowly stop to hang dead off the branch. They'll watch as a hovercraft lifts my body. They'll cry as my face is flashed across the night sky. They'll receive my limp body and bruised neck in a wooden coffin with the Capitol seal carved on the front. They'll close the door to my bedroom, leaving it the way it was when I left so many days ago. Annie will walk alone to school everyday. My mom will make one less plate of food for every meal. My dad will no longer make two cups of coffee every morning.

I hesitate to continue any further with the thought of these things but I have to. It's what's best for _me_. And although that may sound selfish, it's a life that's been given to me and me only, and I get to decide what to do with this life, even if it may not be the right decision.

I find a log and return to the noose that dangles in the afternoon sunlight.

I stand shakily on my toes to reach the loop. I rest both my hands inside it and pull it open as much as I will need. The log shifts and rolls forward and back, so I start to work quicker. I take one last deep breath and smell the fresh, crisp air around me. The sun creates a beautiful light green as it dances between the leaves of the trees. I barely put my face past the rope when I hear a canon boom off in the distance. I jump as it breaks my concentration and I slip off the log, causing my head to snap back and fall out of the noose. My hands, which were holding onto the rope, get caught and are squeezed together in the noose that tightens but then slip out quickly and I fall to the ground. I take a moment to digest all that's just happened but then immediately wonder about Billee. Who just died? Was it Billee?

I quit the suicide and make a full dash to Billee's ditch. I get whacked by branches and bushes and vines that are in my way, but I don't care. I need to know that Billee's okay.

But why do I care so much about him? I just established that I have no will to kill him if he's alive and that I can't face Portia if he's dead. But I continue running. I don't stop until I make it back to the ditch, where I find his jacket still lying in the same crumpled mess. Maybe he just hasn't returned yet. I slip inside and decide to wait for him to come back. I wrap myself in one of his extra blankets and wait. I think back to how I was going to commit suicide and the more I think about it the more I realize I was wrong to want to in the first place. I may not want to continue any further but I have to for all those who love me.

How could I be so selfish?

How could I quit when I've gotten so far?

I stand up and pace, biting my nails, anxiously waiting for Billee to return, but he doesn't.

I have no way of knowing who died until midnight when they reveal the faces of the fallen.

He couldn't have died though. I already decided he'd be able to outsmart Portia.

Or maybe he did die.

No he didn't.

Yes he did.

Shut up, Atala, you have no idea what you're talking about.

I sit down again with the blanket and tears begin to stream down my face. I stop myself quickly and drink Billee's extra water and crackers to console myself. I'm denying myself but accepting myself at the same time. I don't want to think he's dead but he might be, and I have no say on who died until tonight. So, I sit patiently. I wait until he returns.

I look at my hair and realize how greasy it is and how I haven't bathed in days.

I go outside and look around for a pond of some sort, and I find one.

I clean out my fingernails first and then scrub my body with them. The water is cold and refreshing at the same time. I rinse the dirt off my skin and pull leaves and filth out of my hair. I let myself dry as the sun begins to set and then return to the ditch once more. There, I comb my hair with my fingers and then tie it in a simple ponytail and letting it rest on my shoulder. Again, I tightly form a blanket around my shoulders and wait.

When the anthem starts, I wake up. I guess I fell asleep while waiting, exhausted from the events of today.

I crawl out of the ditch for the end of the anthem and watch the sky where the Capitol symbol had been. The sky goes blank for a second and I wonder if maybe I had imagined the whole canon thing, but then the words "The Fallen" flash in the sky in a light blue color. Then a face shows up.

It's Billee's.

I stare at the sky even after his face disappears, hoping to see that they made an error or something, but nothing happens.

I crawl back into the ditch and lie down. The pain doesn't hit me until about thirty minutes later.

I start to cry.

There's nothing to hold me back anymore. No one to make me feel better. I just cry until I can't anymore.

It takes a couple of hours before I sit up again. It's late at night and my eyes and throat hurt. I look to my left side and see Billee's jacket still lying there.

It looks cold just lying there alone.

I strip of my jacket and zip it up, folding it neatly and putting it to the side with the rest of the supplies.

Then, I pick up Billee's and put it on. It's freezing.

I lie down once more and try to fall asleep, but I just toss and turn under the wool blanket. I think about Billee and the past few weeks I've spent with him and how they've all gone to nothing. He's gone now. His story doesn't continue. He doesn't get married and have kids. He doesn't live in the Victor's Village. He's dead, only to be seen by his family in the dark coffin with the Capitol seal.

I turn on my side and fall asleep eventually, but I don't dream.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 23 – Day 17 – 2 Tributes**

Typically when I wake up in Billee's shelter, the morning sunlight peaks through the branches concealing the entrance. Today, this doesn't happen. I wonder if it's just cloudy or perhaps an act of the Gamemakers. Maybe they hid the sun or just made it less bright or something. I force myself up and climb out of the ditch only to find that it's mid afternoon and the sun is high in the sky. How have I managed to sleep for so long?

But then again how have I always waken up early.

Then I realize my faithful birds didn't chirp loud enough to wake me up this morning.

I look up to the trees and to my surprise find no birds.

The birds that woke me up every morning so far are no longer.

I slip back into the ditch and wonder what the point of eliminating the birds was until I notice that the supplies that once lined the walls of the shelter have disappeared too. Even my jacket's gone. All I'm left with are my book bag and the blanket I slept with last night.

This is when I start to worry.

I grab my things quickly and rush out of the shelter. I give it one last look and leave it forever, knowing that this may very well be my last day.

This thought is confirmed when I find that the forest is silent. No chirping, no animal sounds, no running water, nothing. I arrive at the open field where the Career house was. No rubble.

The Gamemakers have taken away everything. They're trying to kill off either Portia or me. Someone has to die soon, as the Capitol citizens must be getting bored. While I stand alone in the field, trumpets begin to sound from the sky. I'm startled but I stand my ground, quickly grabbing for a throwing knife. I'm able to unclip one while Claudius Templesmith's voice begins to start on an intercom.

"As the two remaining tributes have noticed by now, all supplies in the Games have been destroyed. Food. Water. Weapons. All except what you had already, gone. Now, I am inviting you to a feast. The feast will be held at Cornucopia in an hour and will have everything you would need to outlast your opponent. It will contain enough food to last you weeks and extra weapons as well. Good luck to both remaining tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

His voice echoes in the trees and then fades away. This feast they are inviting us to is going to be used as a way to bring us together. I try to think of ways to avoid attending. I search through my bag and lay out all the food I have remaining. I have a few shreds of dried out meat and half a cracker. My water supply is alarmingly low. I consider hunting my way through the rest of the Games but then I remember there's nothing to hunt.

My only option is the feast.

I make my way back to Cornucopia.

I easily remember where the front of the house was and walk straight away from it. I remember my path on this side of the arena was straight, since Delly and I were afraid of getting lost again. Delly. How many days has she been dead? I can't remember.

My mind begins to clutter itself with thoughts of the past. Thoughts of what's happened to me in the last two weeks. I've made allies. I've made enemies. I've been the hunter. I've been the hunted.

This mind clutter dissolves when I reach a tower of rocks that I remember once was a waterfall. Memories of Delly and I coming across this very waterfall flood my mind. It was once cold and crisp, a way for us to relax in this time of slaughter. Now it's dry. Hot from the sun beating down upon it.

I walk right across it, feeling strange to be able to make my way across the place a flowing river once was.

As I continue, the rocks around the river turn into short grass. The short grass slowly turns into tall grass. I know I'm close.

Finally, I see where the trees end abruptly. The gold of the Cornucopia sparkles in the afternoon light. There's nothing there yet. I've made it just on time.

I make my place where the tall grass and trees end, being sure to conceal myself in case Portia is waiting too.

I simply sit down. I figure once the feast appears, I won't need to be ready to run since there's the risk that Portia will be there waiting for me. There's also a good chance that if Portia goes to the feast, I can kill her with my knives from back here. Or maybe not. I'm too far from Cornucopia to tell.

As I sit for a while, I notice something uncomfortable under my butt. I feel around and notice I'm sitting on something in my back pocket. When I reach back, I realize it's the knife I stole from the District 11 girl on the first night. I put it back in my back pocket and ignore it, figuring it can come in as backup later as an extra throwing knife.

Finally, after a few minutes of sitting patiently, the ground in front of the mouth of the Cornucopia opens up. A table rises up and the ground closes again. This is it. This is the feast.

The table that rested in front of the mouth of the Cornucopia was glass. Its steel legs were thin but held up the glass tabletop just fine. Atop the table was a gorgeous white tablecloth that had a thin line of silver embroidered along its edges that sparkled in the sunlight as the cloth danced in the wind. From where I sat I could see beautifully cooked food sitting on trays next to fine china plates and polished silverware. Tall white candles stood in silver candlesticks. Golden bags filled with supplies were placed elegantly on and around the table. The Capitol tried to make this tempting, and they succeeded.

My initial thought is to wait a few seconds. If Portia truly is waiting here too, I suspect she'll run straight for it with no fear. But, after twenty seconds pass, nobody has showed up. Maybe Portia is betting on her survival. She thinks she can outlast me and all this food, but I know she's wrong.

I stand up and stick my head out of the trees just a little bit. I look left, I look right. I scan my surroundings. No sign of movement, no Portia.

The first few steps I take are small and quiet. I'm still wary of the possibility that Portia may be here. But she hasn't come out for a few minutes now, so she probably isn't coming at all. Why be late for a feast?

My small steps turn into a bounding sprint in just a few seconds. The table gets closer and closer and I can smell the meat and the vegetables and the fruit that line the table.

Just before I reach the table, my right hand finds its place on the clip of knives on my belt. There's still a ton left, so I know I can defend myself.

My sprint comes to a full stop at the edge of the table. Before I can even catch a glimpse of what the Gamemakers have left for us, my heart skips a beat at the sight of Portia when she comes out from the hidden side of the Cornucopia and stands opposite me. We just stand there watching each other intently. The tablecloth still flaps in the wind and creates a beautiful sound with the rustling leaves on the trees.

Portia smiles at me. The same cunning smile she flashed me at the Bloodbath.

Then, she flips the table over.

I have no time to react. All of the plates, bags, and candles crash on top of me.  
I scream and begin to crawl on my elbows, away from the broken glass and tableware scattered around me.

But Portia is too quick for me.

She grabs my left leg and yanks me towards her. She's much stronger than I'd previously imagined. Then, she grabs my hair and tosses me to the side like a ragdoll. This is it. This is where I die. I lay there helplessly on my back, watching her shadow fall over me as she comes closer to make the kill.

And that's when I remember my knives.

I grab one from the clip and slice it at her hands, which are going for my throat. She screams and jerks her hands back. I easily kick her legs and she collapses to my side. In a quick movement, I straddle my legs over her and try to pin her down. Portia quickly regains her will and throws me to the side and rolls on top of me, beginning to pin me down in the same fashion. With momentum on my side, I roll her over once more and end up on top. Ignoring my knives, my goal becomes to choke her. I have both hands digging into her neck, and she chokes violently, spitting and gasping for air. Somehow she manages to stand up, but my chokehold remains. I have my legs straddled around her like a sort of reverse piggyback ride. She shakes around trying to pry me off but I have such a strong grip on her that I don't fall off. I keep screaming with my teeth closed shut. While I still have the advantage on her, I'm in a good amount of pain from the heavy table falling on top of me.

In a last attempt to get me off her, Portia tries a new tactic. She turns around to face the shattered glass and china from the table and falls forward, causing me to land on my back in the jagged glass fragments with her on top of me. I scream as a piece of glass enters my back. Portia wraps her hands around my neck and I begin to feel warm blood spreading across my back quickly. It's a bad wound and I start to panic. Once again, I grab a knife from my clip and swing it across her face, cutting her cheek. Her hands lift off my neck and cover her face, so I push her off my body and roll over to the opposite side. My new idea isn't to fight, but to run. My back is throbbing in pain and although my mind says to fight, my body is weakening.

I pick myself up and start to run towards the woods I came from before. The run seems much longer than it was before. I'm tripping, falling over little bumps in the dirt. About halfway to the first trees, a searing pain runs through my back again. I yell and fall to the ground instantly. My hands reach my back and I feel what I already know is an arrow, sticking straight out. Then, someone yanks the arrow out. It's Portia. She effortlessly rolls my body over and pins me down. Before I can get another knife from my clip, she yanks the entire clip off of my belt and tosses it far behind her.

I have no more hope for survival. I'm about to die.

Her wicked smile becomes plastered on her face. Tears form in my eyes and roll down the side of my head and onto my ear. Portia laughs.

"You thought you were gonna make it, didn't you?" she asks, wrapping her hands around my neck and tightening them together.

I can't breathe now. My chest tightens and I fight for air. I cough and spit and wriggle around but she has me pinned down so well. Portia leans in close and surveys my face. She laughs once more.

"All this time and you thought you would win." Her hands further constrict my throat like a snake. My gasps turn into quick squeaks.

"You wanna know how I killed Billee?" she asks. I don't want to know the answer.

"I followed him for hours. Being the idiot he was, he barely even noticed me. Then, when he started to set up camp, I came up behind him," her grip tightens more. "And I stabbed him in the back with one of my arrows." Her grip tightens again. My vision becomes spotty and I'm lightheaded. "And then I twisted the arrow back and forth and started screaming." She laughs. "He screamed for help, he screamed for his mom," she giggles. "And he screamed for you."

More tears and more wriggling around. My legs are numb and I can barely think entire thoughts. But as I wriggle in short spasms, I feel something uncomfortable in my back pocket.

The knife from the first night.

My right hand makes its way to my pocket and pulls out the knife. I take it firmly in my hand. Portia's head is still so close to mine that she doesn't even notice me.

I swing the knife up and plant it right in her eye.

Air instantly rushes into my lungs as she releases her hands. I pull the knife out and blood gushes out of her eye. I thrust her body off mine and she lies there in the grass, kicking and covering her left eye with her hands.

I shakily stand up, still recovering from almost being strangled to death.

Knife in hand, I slowly start to approach Portia. The sight of me standing above her causes Portia to crawl weakly the opposite way.

She starts to cry. Blood from her eye drips onto the cold grass.

"Please!" she cries. "Please don't kill me, please, please, please, please, please…"

Her voice trails off towards the end because she's crying so much.

I follow her closely.

"I'm begging you." She manages to say, practically whispering.

There's so much pain in her voice.

I don't care though.

I hurdle my knife into her back and she screams a very high-pitched scream.

"That one's for Billee!" I shout at her. She can only cry and scream more.

I kick her onto her back and she looks up at me, her left eye still bleeding and her right eye red and covered in tears.

"No." she begs. But then I stab her in the stomach. She let's out a blood curdling scream but I shout over her.

"THAT ONE'S FOR DELLY!" Now I start to cry. My friends and allies are gone, all at the expense of Portia.

I muster up all the strength I can. I stare at her bleeding body. She doesn't scream anymore but she cries. She's lost all the fight in her.

"And this one's for me." I let out in a reluctant and low tone.

I crouch down and stab her in the chest. She screams. I stab her again. She screams again. I stab her so many times and don't stop until I hear the final canon boom. The sound of the canon rings in my ears and I drop my knife. My hands are covered in blood.

I am a murder.

I look up around me. The sun shines in my eyes. I'm crying.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Sixty-fourth Hunger Games, Atala Copperwood! I give you—the tribute of District Five!"

A hovercraft materializes above me and a ladder drops down. I stumble to the ladder and hold on. It's electric current freezes me in place and I am lifted up.

When I'm pulled into the hovercraft, I look back one more time and see the gold Cornucopia, the broken Feast table, and Portia's mangled body. Then, the doors shut and doctors in sterile white uniforms lead me into an operating room where I'm cut out of my clothes and put under anesthesia.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

I'm falling slowly from the clouds. The air that flies around me is quick, as if I am falling fast, yet my hair flows as if it's submerged underwater. Graceful.

My feet plant themselves onto a beach. Warm sand encases my toes. My hair is tied back and the pain is gone. I'm happy where I am.

I stare at the ocean and I cannot move. But this is nice. I can live with this. The waves crash and the water is dragged back to the sea. Each wave that crashes comes close to my feet but never quite reaches them. Only a soft breeze catches the few strands of hair that aren't tied back completely.

My serenity is abruptly cut short with the sound of someone else's footsteps in the sand. I turn to my left and see Portia, running towards me in slow motion. She wields a knife in her hand.

I try to move but I don't. I wait for the pain. I wait for her to come to me, and when she does, she stabs me in my side.

I scream but no sound comes out. The only sound is the crashing of the waves in front of me.

Another new set of footsteps is coming towards me from the opposite way. With Portia's knife still inside me, I turn to my right. Delly walks slowly, wielding a knife identical to Portia's. Once again, I don't move. I wait for her to stab me with the sharp blade. When she does, I don't even try to scream.

"_Why?_" I whisper to Delly. She only stares at me.

I turn to watch the waves again. Blood pours out of my sides where the knives still remain. Delly and Portia are still at my sides with their hands holding the knives to make sure they stay where they are.

As I watch the waves, a searing pain runs through my back and then through my insides.

I look down and stare blankly at the sword that rips through my stomach, covered in warm, sticky blood.

I manage to turn around and see Billee standing there, holding the sword that just ripped through my body.

"I'm sorry." I tell him, tears rolling down my face. He stares at me the same way Delly did.

This is when I wake up.

My eyes open to a bright ceiling.

I'm in a hospital bed. Tubes run from the wall into my arm. I am restrained in my bed and cannot sit up more than a few inches.

Suddenly, someone walks in. An Avox girl with straight black hair walks in with a cup of water and soup on a tray. She lays the tray down on my thighs and presses a button on the side of my bed that lifts me up into a sitting position. I stare at her. I imagine what it would be like to never speak again. It doesn't seem like it would be so bad. Becoming an Avox sounds like a dream right now.

Before I get the chance to really think of anything to say to her, the Avox girl leaves me alone in the hospital room. I look inside the soup bowl and find there to only be broth. This comes as a shock to me, but I soon realize it's probably because the size of my stomach has gone down dramatically, and trying to eat a lot of food after leaving the arena would probably be a bad idea.

I slowly take spoonfuls of the broth and gulp down the ice-cold water. Then, an icy chill runs down my arm, and I find that the tubes leading to my arm from the wall are flowing with a clear liquid. I quickly dose off and fall asleep.

I repeat this cycle many times. I wake up, wait for the Avox girl, eat some soup, and then get drugged up. Finally, I wake up to find my arm no longer has a tube running into it. My restraints are gone, and I'm free to move around.

I sit up and the fabric of my hospital gown crinkles. My skin is glowing. There is no sign of any scars on my body. My nails are cut to a clean, round shape. My hair feels silky and smooth. I reach my hand down and try to locate where the bird jabbed its beak into my thigh. No scar, no scabs, no bruising.

I stand up and sitting across from me is something I absolutely dread seeing.

The outfit I wore in the arena.

This is what they want me to wear out of the hospital room.

I quickly change into the arena clothes and lay my hospital gown on the bed.

Then, I walk to the door of my room and open it slowly.

I find myself in a long hallway, filled with doors on either side. The hall continues straight for a while and then opens up on the right. I can hear a thick Capitol accent coming from down the hallway. I already know it's Miranda.

I try to keep my walk slow to seem calm and collected as I go see my District 5 team, but my walk turns into a run. I turn the corner and find everyone standing there: Miranda, Charlie, Rootina, Garry, Siarrah, and even Billee's stylist. The sight of Billee's stylist kills my excitement. I stop dead in my tracks and am about to turn around and run and hide and cry for hours, but Garry gathers me in his arms and squeezes me tight.

"I am _so_ proud of you." He whispers in my ear. Everyone else hugs me and then Garry and Siarrah lead me to a room where they and the rest of the prep team begin to get me ready for my interviews.

At this point I just want to go home. I want to see my mom. I want to see Annie. I want to be out of this place and start to forget. But I can't. The show continues after the Games. Interview upon interview with the victor. And then there's the Victory Tour. I will be moved out of my house and into a house in the Victor's Village. There, my new neighbors will be Charlie, Rootina, and the other five victors who have previously won from District 5. The Games will never leave me, no matter how hard I try to get rid of them.


End file.
